Chance Meeting
by Bella Watson-Holmes
Summary: John Watson is a transfer student with an abusive father. Only one person notices; his teacher Sherlock Holmes. They have an instant connection the moment they meet. Can Sherlock save John? *Mystrade, Johnlock, Mpreg*
1. Chapter 1

Sixteen year old John Watson was not looking forward to his new school.

"John, remember to behave." John's father said. "That guy had it coming." John replied. His father let out a sigh, "Look, I am glad you're proud of whom you are, but punching a guy to prove it isn't right." They pulled up in front of the school. "Have a good day, John." His father said as John got out of the car. He walked into the school and looked around. He didn't like moving if it meant changing schools.

The morning went by fast. John barely paid attention to the teachers and he was happy it was lunch time. He sat by himself to eat when he looked up and saw someone enter the lunch room. It was one of the teachers. The two locked eyes before John turned away, getting a strange feeling in his stomach. He finished his food and left the cafeteria, waiting for class to start and feeling nervous. The bell rang and he hurried off to science class. When he walked in he saw the teacher.

"You alright?" The teacher asked. "Yeah, nervous due to it being my first day at a new school." John lied as he took his seat. John pulled his phone out to find a text from his sister Harry.

'I am having a party tonight, you're invited' HW

John hated parties because they usually involved beer. The class started and John tuned out for most of it. He heard the bell ring and started to head out.

"John Watson, I need to talk to you." The teacher called out. "Yes, Mr. Holmes?" John queried. "Were you paying attention at all?" Mr. Holmes asked. John looked at him, "Honestly? No. I just have a lot on my mind at the moment."

"I will let it pass this time, but I do suggest you pay attention more. Understand?" Mr. Holmes asked, John nodded. "Good, now go before you're late for your next class." Mr. Holmes stated while watching him leave.

John got through the rest of the day, when he left the building his dad was already waiting for him.

"So, how did it go?" His father asked. "Good." John answered flatly. Silence followed the rest of the way home.

When they got home, John went straight to his room closing the door with a satisfying click. John looked at a photo of his mother.

_*"John, come here." His mom said. "Mom, you ok?" John asked. "No, there's something I want to tell you." she said. "Yes, mom?" John grabbed her hand. "You have a gift, just like I do; one day you will find your soul mate. Never doubt it." She__ held his hand.*_

John heard his phone go off. It was just his sister again. He ignored it and did his homework instead while listening to his music.

Later, John went downstairs for dinner. He didn't see his father which meant one thing. Tonight was going to be bad. He turned on the television and decided to wait it out.

Shortly after, he heard his father moving around.

"John!" His father yelled. John's heart raced and he turned the television off before hurrying upstairs. His father was sitting on the bed. "Yes, father?" John asked shakily. "Get in here, John." His father ordered. John walked in, stepping in front of his father where he got pulled onto his lap. John was shaking. "Oh, come on, you know you want this." His father said, feeling up his sons body.

In the morning, John woke up in his bed and went to take a shower. As he got dressed his father knocked on his door, "Almost ready?"

"Yeah." John answered ."Hurry up!" His father ordered. John went downstairs and saw his father at the dining room table. "I'm ready." John said nervously. "I see… you took longer than yesterday." His father told him. "I couldn't find something." John explained "Let's go." His father got up and went out the door.

He was dropped off at school and was outside for lunch. He still couldn't make friends, he looked up and saw Mr. Holmes. "Why aren't you in the Cafeteria?" Mr. Holmes asked, stopping in front of John. "Already ate, didn't want to stay in there." John told him. Mr. Holmes went on walking, leaving John alone. There was something about the man, almost as if he knew him from somewhere, but that was impossible. The man had to be in his thirties at least and John was only sixteen years old. He went back in, heading towards class. When he got to class he just waited for the bell. When the bell finally rang he went into class and took a seat nervously. Every time he saw Mr. Holmes he got this funny feeling.

At the end of day, John waited for his father outside the school.

"John Watson."

John looked up. "Mr. Holmes? I am just waiting for my dad… He's late."

"I see that. I can give you ride to help out." Mr. Holmes offered. "You sure? no one is going to mind?" John asked. "It's just a ride." Mr. Holmes stated. John nodded, "Thank you"

"No problem. So, do you have anyone else?" Mr. Holmes asked. "No, my sister is a drunk and my mom died six years ago." John answered. "You could just take the bus." The teacher suggested. "My dad won't let me, he doesn't trust anyone on the bus." John explained.

Mr. Holmes looked at John. "You know, if there's anything going on at home there's help here at school." He told John. "I know."

"Where do you want me to drop you off?" Mr. Holmes asked."Just over here, I don't want my dad to see. He will get mad at me." John said as Mr. Holmes pulled over. John stepped out, "Thank you" He smiled then closed the door.

John walked down the street home and when he entered the house his father was drunk. "John, you're home." His father said. John closed the door, "You didn't pick me up"

"Yeah but you got a ride." his father said grabbing him. "I had to get to home." John said shakily. "Did you do anything?" He demanded. "No, father, it was just a ride! I swear!" John cried out.

John took off his backpack. "Get over here…" His father ordered. John walked over. "You think I would approve of you riding home with a strange male?" Mr. Moriarty said. "No." John answered. He was grabbed by his neck and thrown to the floor. "Stay on your knees." Johns father commanded.

John was in his room that night trying to sleep as his body was in pain from the beating his father gave him. The next morning at school, Mr. Holmes was in his classroom and saw John limp by.

"John, are you okay?" Mr. Holmes asked, going into the hallway. John looked at him, "Yeah, just fine. I fell down the stairs at home last night."

"Okay, just be careful." Mr. Holmes said. John went to his locker. He knew someday someone would find out about his father. Towards the end of the day, John was waiting for his father. "John." His father said, stepping up to him. "Dad." John replied. "Hi, you must be John's father." Mr. Holmes said. "Yes. Jim Moriarty." They shook hands. "Sherlock Holmes, can I talk to you for a minute in private?" Sherlock asked. "John, you wait here." Jim said while walking with Sherlock. Jim looked at Sherlock. "Is everything alright with John at home?" Sherlock asked. "Yeah, he's just having a hard time with the move. He got into trouble at his last school so I pulled him out." Jim explained. "If he needs help we have a counselor he can talk to here at the school." Sherlock said. "Thank you, I will talk to him about it, but I need to get him home now." Jim said.

Sherlock watched them leave. He pulled his phone out and made a call. "Lestrade, can you meet me at Angelo's please?" Sherlock asked, "Thank you." He hung up.

Sherlock went there an hour later. "So, what's up?" Lestrade asked. "There's this boy at school," Sherlock started,

"Don't tell me you two are-" Lestrade was cut off,

"No. He came to school today limping. I think his father is possibly abusing him. He's detached and scared." Sherlock said. Lestrade drank his coffee, "Could he be shy or bullied at school?"

"No, he's alone and his father picks him up from school. He isn't allowed to ride the bus." Sherlock explained. "I admit, that does sound odd, do you have a name for the father?" Lestrade asked.

"Jim Moriarty." Sherlock answered. "I will do a background check with Mycroft's help but, please, don't do anything okay?" Lestrade requested. "Thank you, I will tell you this. I gave him a ride home when his father didn't show up yesterday." Sherlock told him. Lestrade looked at him "You like him." Lestrade said. "Yes I do, when we first locked eyes we connected but I won't do anything I promise." Sherlock assured him. "Good I don't want to arrest you." Lestrade stated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Id Chapter 2**

John was doing his homework in the living room

"So.. Your teacher, Mr. Holmes, have you told him anything?" Jim asked his son.

"No, he saw me limping but I told him I fell down the stairs." John stated.

"So, he was just a worried teacher. He won't find anything incriminating." Jim murmured before adding, "Have you spoken with Harry lately?"

"No. She texts me but I don't respond." John continued with his homework.

"Remember what we have is special." Jim said while getting close to John.

"No, you just can't stand not dominating someone." John shot back. He felt his neck grabbed suddenly and he let out a whimper. Jim stared him in the eyes. "You know better than to say that, and I know it was Mr. Holmes who gave you the ride. Don't ever try that again or next time I will break your leg." Jim growled. He removed his hand and left the room while John sat there in shock.

Sherlock was at home reading. He couldn't get John off his mind; he knew the signs of abuse being a victim once himself. He couldn't do much unless he could prove what Jim was doing to John. He had to trust Lestrade to find something on Jim Moriarty.

Sherlock Holmes was seen as a Psychopath by most who had met him. No one ever believed he had feelings, but he did have them for John and yet he didn't really know him. Sherlock made tea, turning on the TV in hopes of clearing his mind of John, but what good was it? He went to his mind palace to think about Johns limp. He opened his eyes.

"Of course that's what he did."

Sherlock was at work when he saw John come in.

"John, you don't have my class today." Sherlock said.

"I know. I want to talk to you." John stated.

"What about?" He asked.

"About my father, but after school." The blonde replied.

"Ok, meet me here." Sherlock told him.

The day seemed to go on forever.

When the day finally ended, John went to Sherlock's class room. Sherlock closed the door

"John, what's up?" Sherlock asked

"This." John said while lifting his shirt, Sherlock looked shocked.

"What happened?" The teacher all but gasped.

"My dad hit me last night." John said.

"Wait, since when do you trust me enough to tell me?" Sherlock asked.

"You're the first person to come up to me here, I don't trust many people, but you seem to care." John explained.

"You trust me enough to come with me?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah" John said.

They left the school and went to Sherlock's flat where Lestrade was waiting

"You must be John Watson." The man said.

"Detective Lestrade, just a friend of Mr. Holmes." Lestrade stated.

"Yeah." he said

"Sherlock said your father hit you. I need to see the bruise." Lestrade said. John looked at Sherlock. "You can trust him." The dark haired man said.

"Oh my god, what did he hit you with?" Lestrade asked.

"His fist."

"John, why haven't you told anyone?" Lestrade asked.

"He will kill me, just like he did my mom." John answered.

"How did he kill her?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know. He told me he did and if I misbehaved like she did I'd be killed too." John paused, "My sister is drunk thanks to him."

"Here's the background check." Lestrade said, handing the file to Sherlock.

"John, I will have to send you home." Lestrade said.

"If I do he will beat me worse." John said.

"Why?" Sherlock asked.

"Apparently, he's afraid you will take me from him." John told Sherlock.

"Let's talk privately." Lestrade said to Sherlock.

"I just realized he's an omega and you're an alpha." Lestrade said.

"Jim's an alpha; he doesn't want anyone claiming him." Sherlock said.

Lestrade turned to John, "Is your father out of town or something?"

"For four days. He has business in Russia." John replied.

Sherlock looked at Lestrade. "We have four days… What Mycroft found is he's a criminal master mind. This is dangerous and there's only one man for the job" Lestrade said.

"I am going to get you home; I promise I will do my best to help you." Sherlock said to John.

"I don't know why... But I trust you." John said, Sherlock smiled

"You mind if I have a doctor get photos of those marks first?" Sherlock asked.

"Not at all." John said.

In the evening John heard his cell phone ring.

"Hello?" He answered. "Hi, dad." He had grim look on his face, "Fine, no one over I swear!"

He heard the other line hang up. John looked at the time. Today, he put his trust in Mr. Holmes who was a consulting detective and a teacher. John knew his father would kill him sooner or later with all the beatings.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jim came back home and John was watching TV.

"So, how is my son doing?" Jim asked his son pulling him close as he sat next to him.

"Fine, just tired" John told his father as his breathing got heavier.

"Do you have any homework?" Jim felt down John body making the boy feel uncomfortable.

"No." John answered while trying not look at his father.

Jim forced John on his lap and started kissing his neck. He started to kiss John but something was different. Jim didn't say anything at first but, after the third kiss he grabbed John's throat. He looked into John's eyes and knew he did something. He had a guilty look. Jim threw the boy to the floor.

"You told him!" Jim yelled, standing over John.

"I didn't!" John lied in hopes that Jim would fall for it.

Jim kicked John in the stomach as he got up, "Don't you dare lie to me!"

"Okay I told him... He has proof." John said, whimpering from the pain as he sat up.

Jim walked off out of John's sight. John tried standing up but the pain was too much. His father came back in the room holding a buck knife; John saw the knife and froze in fear. Jim pulled him by his shirt collar and laid him on the couch before straddling the boy.

"I told you to be a good boy didn't I?" Jim asked, pressing the knife to his son neck.

"Yes!" John choked out.

"I am going to give you something I didn't give to your mother." Jim said grinning, "Now that he knows our little secret, We can't let him tell anyone." Jim move the knife along John's neck before continuing, "You're going to help me bring down Sherlock Holmes or died a slow painful death, you do understand?" Jim asked John, making eye contact.

"Yes, father." John managed to get out.

"So which will it be? Your choice." Jim said, grinning.

John was scared of his father, but he was more scared of death. It seemed like forever that the knife was against his neck. John didn't want to bring any harm to Sherlock, but he didn't want to die either. John tried relaxing his body.

"So, son, what will it be?" Jim asked impatiently.

"I...I will help." John stuttered out. The knife left his neck. He was so glad the knife wasn't there that he didn't even realize that his father got off of him.

"Tomorrow I am going to be out of town. You will convince Mr. Holmes to come here alone just to 'talk', right?" Jim asked John.

"Yes." John said as Jim pulled him close.

"I am going to hide a camera in your room; you're going to seduce him. That shouldn't be hard." Jim paused before making eye contact, "Am I right?"

"N...no." John stuttered.

The next day at school, John was standing outside Sherlock's class room trying to get the nerve up to talk to Sherlock. He finally got it and walked in.

"John, you look like you went through hell." Sherlock stated.

"Bad night, but um… my dad's out of town and I was hoping you could give me a ride home today." John said.

"Um… sure. I'd be glad to. You sure you don't want Mycroft to arrange it?" Sherlock asked.

"No, no. I want to talk you today in private." John told him as he got nervous.

"Alright, you know where to meet me." Sherlock said, getting back to his work as John left the class room.

After School, John waited outside the view of cameras waiting for Sherlock. His stomach was in knots knowing what he was doing was wrong. Sherlock's car pulled up and John stepped in buckling up.

"So, is everything okay?" Sherlock asked, worried.

"Sort of, it's normal. He's being my father… He's out for the night on a business trip or something." John lied.

Sherlock pulled up in front of the house. "Can we talk inside please?" John asked.

"Yeah. You sure it's okay if I go in?" Sherlock asked cautiously.

"Yeah, he's not coming back 'till tomorrow evening. I swear!" John insisted.

The two stepped into the house. Sherlock looked around, stunned almost at how nice the house was. Sherlock sat on the couch where he saw a spot of blood on the carpet; he looked at John who was putting his school stuff away.

"You want a drink?" John asked nervously.

"Water. John you look nervous." Sherlock stated.

"Yeah, I want to ask you something." John said, bringing him a glass of water.

"Then ask before you lose your nerve." Sherlock smiled.

"Um…" John took a deep breath before continuing, "D…Do you have feelings for me?"

"You sure you want to know that answer? It's not even right to ask. You're my student." Sherlock said.

"Yes I…I know. But, from the start you wanted to help, which can only mean you care. I just want to know." John stated, getting as close as he could.

"John, I admit I like you. I really do! But, nothing can happen-" Sherlock was cut off by John kissing him; he pushed John away. He saw John run down the hall before he could say anything. Sherlock felt his growing erection. "Oh no." He murmured before he decide to talk to John, "John!" He called out.

"In here." John replied, standing in a doorway. He disappeared into the room where he went to sit on his bed.

"Um… I don't know what to say. I can get in trouble for that." Sherlock said, sitting in the chair at the desk.

"You didn't seem to mind. You want me just as bad as I…I want you." John stuttered. He really did want to be with Sherlock, but by his choice, not forced to seduce him.

"John, you're only sixteen."

Once again he was cut off by John kissing him, but this time he gave in.

"John we can't." Sherlock gasped when they broke for air.

"Please." John begged in fear. Sherlock saw the expression, realizing John was scared but not from the idea of being with Sherlock for the first time.

Sherlock took a deep breath and kissed John with passion pulling him close before breaking for air but keeping him close enough to whisper, "What did Jim say to you?"

"He'll kill me." John whispered back.

"You have a condom?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah." John answered against Sherlock's lips as Sherlock leaned in to kiss him. Sherlock laid him on the bed and crawled atop him. John removed Sherlock's shirt moaning as Sherlock touched him gently. Sherlock got between John's legs, kissing him softly before pulling off John shirt. He noticed the bruise on John's stomach. The teen pulled Sherlock into a kiss. John undid Sherlock's pants, exposing his dick. John undid his own pants, pulling them off with the help of Sherlock. John pulled the condom from his nightstand.

"You sure you want to go all the way?" Sherlock asked

"Yeah." John answered, kissing him.

Sherlock looked to the nightstand, "Do you have any lotion? I need something to lube you up with." John thought for a moment, trying to recall if there was any in the house. "I think there is some in the bathroom, let me get it." The teen got up and padded into the bathroom, rummaging around under the sink until he found a small bottle of hand cream. "I hope this works."

"Sherlock, is this alright?" John asked, holding up the bottle. Sherlock glanced at the door and nodded. "That should suffice, come here now."

John crawled onto the bed and awkwardly glanced at Sherlock as the teacher read the ingredients on the back of the bottle. "It's water based so this shouldn't hurt if there's a small tear." The elder muttered as he removed the cap and put a little on his fingers. He massaged the lotion to warm it up between his fingers before he had John turn around and present his bottom to him.

"Now, relax best you can. This will feel weird, but you need to relax or else it would hurt."

John screwed his eyes shut and tried to push the guilt and negative feelings out of his mind, focusing on the deep baritone voice of his teacher to help relax his muscles.

"Good." Sherlock murmured, his finger slowly sliding into the boy as he relaxed. He carefully prepared him to ensure no pain would be felt before he opened and rolled the condom onto his dick. He applied the lotion to his aching need and carefully lubed himself up, making sure there was more than necessary to not hurt the boy.

"Ready?" he whispered, his breath ghosting across the younger mans neck. The boy nodded, whimpering slightly as the teacher delicately kissed his neck before slowly entering him.

It didn't take long before the two were lost in a passionate frenzy, finishing quickly and ending with the two panting a top each other. They shared a brief kiss before attempting to catch their breath after such vigorous activities.

From a hotel not far away, Jim felt a maniacal grin slide across his face. Gotcha.

The night ended with John's whispered, "I'm sorry."


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: Non-Con**

**I have been getting some help from winterimperfect with the editing.**

**I sure hope you like it!**

**Chapter 4**

Sherlock laid next to John, holding him and never wanting to leave. He knew he had to go so he got up and grabbed his shirt and zipped up his pants. John stirred, looking up at his teacher.

"You alright?" John asked.

"Yeah I'm fine. I am more worried about you." Sherlock said, crouching down to be eye level with the teen.

"Jim makes me have sex with him every night he's home, but he doesn't treat me the way you do." John said.

"I better go. I can't be seen here." With that, Sherlock kissed John and left quickly.

John was already missing Sherlock's touch. He always felt like Jim's toy, but with Sherlock he felt like a person. He cried as soon as Sherlock left, clinging his blanket. In the mean time, Sherlock drove home feeling bad for John. Sherlock knew how John felt. When Sherlock was fourteen, his uncle sexually abused him. Sherlock went into his room holding his stomach, feeling nauseous. Not only was John a toy, he was one once more. Jim was using him for his own entertainment, but for what purpose he didn't know.

The fight to save John just got harder.

Mycroft knocked on the door and Sherlock glanced over his shoulder.

"You were with someone. I presume it was John by the smell." Mycroft stated flatly.

"Sorry, Jim would have killed him if we didn't… don't you get it? John is Jim's play toy and now I am, too!" Sherlock growled out.

"Let's hope this doesn't come to kick us in the ass." Mycroft said, leaving.

Back at John's home he was still curled in bed emotionally drained, he knew his father would be back soon. He felt a jolt down his spine as he heard the front door creak open and he recognized the tell-tale footsteps of his drunk father.

"Oh, Johnny boy." Came the singsong call. The boy gulped, knowing how bad this was going to be.

He slowly sat up, attempting to keep his breath under control before he started going into hysterics. He pulled on his boxers and slowly stepped into the door way, peering around it and down to where he could see his father leaning heavily against the wall.

"Oh, there you are. Daddy's precious little slut."

John felt his body start to shake, fear making his body feel like he fell into an ice bath.

"Come here, John."

The impatience lacing the voice jolted John into action; he quickly made his way to his father. He stayed just a little out of reach, but Jim would have none of that. A smile stretched the handsome man's face into something horrid as he grabbed his son's shoulders in a crushing grip and slammed his lips to the boys, all but grinding their teeth together into a painful, and eventually, bruised and bloody kiss.

John trembled as he felt his lip split under the painful assault.

Jim dropped everything in his hands to the floor and dragged his son with him to the boys bedroom. He threw John onto the bed and hopped atop him, his feet planted on either side of his sons hips as he crouched above the boy.

John's body was shaking in fear now, fueling his father's lust as the man began to brutally claim the boy with bites that nearly tore flesh, adoring the painful screams that emitted from the boy under him.

"You are mine, you slut, never forget it."

John nodded quickly, trying to curb his trembling as Jim lowered himself. He could feel his father's erection pressed to his thigh. Bile threatened to rise, but he bit it back knowing he would get an even worse punishment should he get ill.

Out of his pocket, Jim pulled out a switchblade and- expertly- flipped the blade out and locked it in place. He first used it to cut the boy's underwear off before taking in the trembling, teary eyed boy under him.

Jim grinned wolfishly before swooping down upon the boy into another bruising kiss, his nails digging into the boy's shoulders as he roughly thrust himself into the tense body beneath him. John screamed as he felt himself tear inside, his body to tense to take in such an intrusion.

"Enjoying the burn, boy? I know you love it. Let me enhance it." Jim growled out before taking the sharp blade to the boy's chest and slowly, painfully, carving the word 'mine' into the boy's chest.

The pain proved too much for John and the world went black, his father's laughter the last thing heard.

John woke up at his usual time feeling the pain from the night before. Remembering what his father did, he got up best he could and, regardless of how painful it was to walk, went into the bathroom. He cleaned up, found some gauze and an old bandage and carefully wrapped his chest best he could by himself, then took some painkillers and got dressed. He pulled on a turtle neck to hide the bite marks on his neck, grabbed his backpack and was ready. His father gave him a ride to school.

"Have a good day." Jim said as John got out.

"See you after school." John replied stiffly, closing the car door.

As he walked into the school building he knew how obvious his pain was, but he hoped no one would notice. Sherlock saw John at his locker where he was getting a book out. John was limping again. Sherlock felt like his heart had broken to see the teen in so much pain. John looked towards Sherlock's classroom. He had to face him today after last night. It seemed the day went on forever. John was in science class when the bell rang he got up in hopes of rushing out.

"John Watson, you need to stay after class." Mr. Holmes called to him.

"Please, don't ask." John begged.

"John, what did he do?" Sherlock asked.

"This should give you an idea." John pulled down the collar of his shirt.

"Oh…" Sherlock was at a loss for words.

"Please, I have to get to class." John said, getting up. Sherlock watched John walk out. He knew that walk and it never felt good.

That night Sherlock got home late and found an envelope at the door addressed to him, he took it in and opened it. A few seconds later a horrified look found it's way to his face.

"Sherlock, you're pale." Mycroft stated.

"You're going to be too." Sherlock said showing him.

"Crap. You saved John, sure, but caused yourself a load of trouble." Mycroft said.

"He raped John last night. Biting him to the point of nearly taking skin off… He just treats him like he's nothing! The boy is a prisoner and I am the first person to care since his mother!" Sherlock yelled.

"You're willing to lose everything to save him." His brother stated flatly.

"Yes" Sherlock responded.

Mycroft left the room and Sherlock found a note on the back of one.

'Want More?'


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Sherlock was at his brothers place for dinner with the Holmes family. They were celebrating Mycroft proposing to Lestrade finally after ten years together. Sherlock couldn't help but think of John the whole time.

"Sherlock, make a toast!"

"Um… I don't know what to say. Well, I do, but I'd probably be hit." Sherlock paused, "So I am just happy my brother finally made his mind up." His mom shook her head.

Meanwhile, John was at home working on his homework when Jim came home; John didn't pay any attention to his father. Jim came up behind the couch and touched the teens shoulders alarming him,

"Busy with homework?" Jim asked while kissing John neck making him whimper.

"Yeah, it's due tomorrow and makes up most of my grade." John told Jim.

"I will let you be for now, but when you're done, we will have fun... Well, I will have fun." Jim had a grin across his face. John just continued doing his homework trying to focus on the task at hand. Jim stared at him just before he received a text message and disappeared into another room.

"So, my little slut, you done yet?" Jim asked impatiently.

"I can be for now." John replied. Jim grabbed him by the waist, pulling him close for a rough kiss.

Sherlock was getting back to his flat and saw another envelope. Sherlock grabbed it and went inside. He placed it on the table and stared at it knowing very well who it was from. He ignored it for now for his phone began to ring. It was a call from Lestrade.

"Hello?" Sherlock answered.

"Mycroft's worried about you but he won't call himself." Lestrade said.

"I'm fine, I just worry about John. It's hard to explain." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, I get it, you love him and you want to save him, but Jim is no fool." Lestrade said.

"I got to go, I need to rest." Sherlock hung up.

Sherlocks heart raced at the thought of Jim hurting John.

Sherlock had fallen in love with John and Jim knew it too. He was sure John felt the same way, he saw it in his eyes every time they got within touching distance. John being his student would get him fired from his job. The last thing Sherlock wanted to do was open the envelope but he did anyway. It was more pictures with another note. The pictures were of Jim with John. Sherlock felt sick to his stomach.

'Want More?'

At Jim's residents the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" John yelled. He slipped on his robe and opened the door. "Hi." The man said. "Sebastian." Jim said.

John had a bad feeling about Sebastian being here.

John stepped back as Sebastian stepped in the house and all but threw himself at Jim. "Jim, it's been so long." The man all but growled out, slamming Jim against the wall and slamming his mouth to his. John backed away in hopes of putting distance between himself and them, but luck was not on his side as Jim pushed Sebastian off him with enough force that the man hit the wall on the other side of the entrance way.

"Do not touch me." Jim growled out at the other man who seemed shock at being pushed by Jim.

Sebastian glanced at Jim then at John. The teen knew immediately that the other man worked out what was going on prior to his arrival.

"Oh, I see." He muttered under his breath before turning to Jim. "I need a place to stay, so here I am. Do I get a room?"

Jim groaned and went to his room with Sebastian to work things out. John sighed in relief knowing he wouldn't get assault tonight. He went back into his room in hopes of catching rest for the first time in a while.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Jim was sipping his morning tea when Sebastian came out of the guest bedroom. John didn't dare look at him for he didn't trust Sebastian. He wasn't about to tell his father that, though. John got the last of his homework into his backpack.

"You ready John?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, ready." John responded.

Jim got him off to school and then it was on with business. He had a deal to make while he was at his office. At the house Sebastian made a call.

"Yeah, I need a favor." Sebastian said.

"Anything for you, Seb." The man at the other end said.

"I need you to keep Jim Moriarty busy for two days." Sebastian told him.

"You need him out of the way to do something." the man stated.

"Yeah, and he wouldn't approve of it." Sebastian looked at a photo of John with his mother.

"I will take care of it I promise." The man said with pride.

"Good, talk to you later." Sebastian hung the phone up.

Sebastian grinned, "By tomorrow you will be gone."

John waited for his father. He saw the car pull up and got in. Jim looked at John curiously. John didn't like that look, it meant something was up. Since Jim didn't trust John anymore he hated the look now more than ever.

"Dad, everything okay?" John asked nervously.

"No, I have to go for two days and I refuse to leave you alone again, so Sebastian will be watching you." Jim said.

"After what he did last night?" John asked before realizing what he said.

"I will let that one go for now. We worked it out last time you betrayed me."

"I am sorry that was out of line" John said.

"You're damn lucky I didn't kill you that day. If you behave this time, next time you can be alone, but only if you behave I am I clear?" Jim ordered as he pulled up in the driveway.

"Y…yes clear." John stuttered.

"Get inside I got to go. Sebastian already knows." Jim said while almost pushing John out of the car.

John stood there and watched his father leave; he didn't want to go in the house alone. The look Sebastian gave him last night sent a chill down his spine. He saw the jealousy in Sebastians eyes and knew being alone with a man jealous of what he had ,even if it wasn't by choice, would be dangerous. Sebastian was sure to harm him, but he started towards the door, slowly opening it before entering.

"Ah, there you are, brat." John heard Sebastian's drawl from the living room. He bit his lip and tried to scurry into his room. "Oh, no you don't."

John gasped as Sebastian picked him up from the back of his shirt and forcefully dragged him into the room and tossed him onto the couch. "I have to watch you, after all. Can't have you scurrying off to do who knows what in your room." He smiled cruelly.

John shifted nervously as Sebastian sat down beside him and turned on the telly. He kept feeling the mans eyes on him, making him feel very uncomfortable.

"You must be good in bed to keep Jim's interest. You're quite the slut. Should I have a go to see what's so good about you?" Sebastian taunted with a rather lewd look.

John tried to shift away, but felt Sebastian was possibly more dangerous than his father. "I.. I don't think Father would like that." He stuttered out, trying hard to not get up and run.

"I saw the pictures, Johnny boy. You've been with many from what I saw. Your own teacher? Tutt tutt... someones been a bad boy." He loomed over the teen, making John shiver in fear.

He did not want to be touched or raped by anyone else and managed to suck up enough courage to slip out from under Sebastian and dart into his room, hopefully escaping the mad man.


	7. Chapter 7

**All the action scenes are by winterimperfect. (So if you don't like them complain to that person, not me)**

**Chapter 7**

John awoke to silence and peace. He slowly sat up and looked around wondering if he died in his sleep because normally he ached everywhere from a beating or was yelled awake. He slid out of bed and got dressed, making his way out of the room and into the kitchen.

Sebastian was gone.

Sebastian was busy at the moment. He spent the night cleaning his favorite revolver- a Colt Python if you must know- and was currently putting the bullets into the chamber from where he hid in an alley to keep himself away from prying eyes. He waited after he snapped the chamber shut, keeping an eye out for a certain sandy-haired slut.

He puffed on his cigarette and grimaced, wondering if the boy would ever show his ugly face when he finally caught sight of him. Keeping his walk casual he did his best to keep his revolver nearly invisible in his hand, hiding it in the folds of his thigh-length coat. He growled lightly as someone walked into his shoulder and kept stalking on the opposite side of the street from his prey. Oblivious little John was in plain sight, all he had to do was keep out of the security cameras view and shoot. He found the perfect spot and raised his hand to aim at the boys head. Just as he went to squeeze the trigger, the boy bent down.

Cursing, Sebastian quickly hid his gun once more as a businessman turned the corner. He continued to trail the boy, but in the end never had a clear spot. With a growl he spun on his heel and went into an alley near the entrance of the school. He looked at the name of the building across from the school and recognized it as belonging to someone who owed him a favor. With a grin, he slid out from the alleyway and made his way to a storage facility not too far from the building of interest. He opened his cell phone and punched in a number.

"Hello?" Came the gruff voice on the other end.

"I'm calling for that favor you owe me." Sebastian replied, taking a drag on his cigarette before stomping it out and entering the storage building.

"Anything at all, it's yours."

That was the reply he was hoping for. "So…that building you own, across the street from the high school..."

He closed his phone with a satisfied grin as he was given full access to the building. It was good to have so many connections.

He looked around quickly to make sure no security cameras were facing him and that no one was about to come down the aisle. It was clear. He quickly shoved the key into the lock and opened his locker; a look of adoration filled his face as he looked upon the sleek, black case.

"Oh, how I've missed you, you beauty." He caressed the case of his sniper rifle lovingly. "You ready to have some fun?"

Meanwhile, John caught the bus to school and got off at his stop. While walking the remaining distance to the building he checked his phone for any messages from his father. He had this gut feeling that he didn't like. He got to his locker and Sherlock stepped out of the classroom.

"John, everything okay at home?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah, my father's out for a couple days or so… I've got to go, I will see you in class." John said, hurrying off. Sherlock looked at him confused, knowing something was bothering John. Sherlock went back to his classroom.

"John!" A male voice called out. The teen turned.

"Mike!" John exclaimed, shocked.

"I didn't know you transferred here!" Mike said grinning like an idiot.

"Yeah, been here almost three weeks." John stated.

"Um… is your father still... You know?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, but it's gotten worse." John told him.

The bell rang suddenly and both teens ran to class. John didn't feel like being late to class and John arrived at his first class just in time. His English class went on forever it seemed. Boring poetry reading. After English it was time for science class, his worst subject, but his favorite class of the day. When he got into class, Sherlock was at his desk. John wasn't aware Sebastian was watching him.

He settled into his seat, looking up at Sherlock questioningly; completely oblivious to the danger he was about to face.

Sebastian grinned as he crushed the fourth cigarette of the day under his boot; he saw his prey in a window seat not too far from where he set up his beauty. He double checked that everything was in order and that the safety pin was in the 'off' position before he lowered himself into position. He peered through the telescope lens to check his accuracy and made note of the wind before lining up his shot. He held his breath and began to concentrate. No mistakes, this kid was going to be a goner.

Sherlock turned his head slightly and saw a glimmer that made his blood run cold.

"Get down!" He shouted, just before tackling his closest student – John- to the ground as the bullet pierced the glass, grazing Sherlock's bicep before embedding itself in the desk. He covered John, glad to see the few kids who were milling about unhurt and running out the door.

Sebastian cursed under his breath before he began to quickly break down his weapon and put it back in his case. The place would be crawling with police shortly. He lit another cigarette before picking up his case and exiting the roof swiftly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

John laid there stunned, feeling Sherlocks warmth against his. He slowly slid his hands up the other mans arms to tap at his shoulders in hopes of the older man getting off of him. What he was not expecting was the sticky, warm feeling that accompanied the motion on his left hand. He shakily lifted his hand as Sherlock groaned and saw the blood coating his hand. He began shaking uncontrollably, the world beginning to blur as sirens filled the air. He felt hands on his shoulders, recognized the deep baritone that was his teachers voice, but could not make out the syllables or structure of what was being said. He felt himself being lifted and moved, but could not understand what exactly was happening. He saw the blur of red and blue lights before he felt the warmth leaving him, being replaced with a garishly orange blanket. The only thing he understood was that his teacher, his beloved, had been injured protecting something as worthless as him. He blacked out.

John woke up in his bed. He heard someone walk in and the teen looked towards the door.

"Son, you alright?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, I was saved by Mr. Holmes." John said.

"I was told… Well, I am glad you're alive. I came home early to be with you."

This would be the only time John would be glad to have his father here. He saw Sebastian watching them and he instinctively knew Sebastian had something to so with the sniper attack. Jim got up, "Just get some sleep tonight, I have to leave on a trip again tomorrow so rest up."

John felt his heart skip when he realized he'd be alone with Sebastian once again. He grabbed his iPod and listen to music to settle down. A few minutes later, his phone vibrated.

I know you're worried. I am fine. SH

John smiled, knowing Sherlock was alright, but John was still in danger. The sniper was after him, he knew that much, but they hadn't caught the sniper. John knew Sebastian was one.

That night John could hear his father on the phone as he passed the master bedroom.

"I need that favor now! I will be arriving tomorrow." Jim growled out, "If it isn't there when I arrive you will regret it, got it?" A pause, "Good." He slammed his phone shut before looking over his shoulder, "I know you're there John." .

"Sorry, I just went to get some food." John said.

"Come in here." Jim order, grinning as John followed the order. Jim sat on the edge of his bed where he pulled John to his lap. Jims touch made John shiver.

"I hear you gave Sebastian a little trouble by leaving while he was talking to you." Jim said as he kissed the teens neck.

"He was making me uncomfortable... Like he wanted something from me."

"What did he want?" Jim asked, slowly moving his hands up John sides.

"Sex, I think. He brought up the photos and... Well... He was talking about…" John was cut off by Jims lips touching his.

He gasped slightly as the older mans tongue slipped into his mouth. This was different. This was tender. This was not like his father. He clung lightly to his fathers small frame as the mans hands slid down to his ass, slowly grinding him into his lap. Jim pulled away and looked into John's flushed face. A grin tugged his lips.

He undid his pants and looked at John. "Suck it." He growled into the boys ear.

John felt himself shiver as he carefully got off his fathers lap and went on his knees on the floor where he gently took his fathers cock out and gave it a few strokes before taking it into his mouth. Jim hissed his appreciation through clenched teeth, his back arching in pleasure. For a moment, he saw Sebastian's shocked face in the door way before he was gone. He bit back a laugh before hissing at the wonderful sensation his son was giving him. He grabbed Johns hair and wrenched him up to his lips, ignoring the boys pained gasp in favor of kissing his son senseless. He laid the boy on the bed and climbed on top of him. He made short work of the boys pants and he lifted one of Johns legs, making him bend it at the knee and held it at his chest.

"What a view.." He murmured wistfully before doing another thing John had never seen him do.

Jim reached for the lube and began to carefully prepare his son for entry. He wasn't as thorough as Sherlock, but John still appreciated the thought.

Soon, Jim was pushing himself into John, groaning out his pleasure. He fused his lips to Johns as he thrust with abandon into the warm body beneath him. Johns nails bit into Jim's shoulders until the older man cried out his release and fell on John. Here's normally where Jim got up and left him, but to his surprise, his father pulled out and then lowered himself until he was facing John's cock. He gently touched it, bringing it to full hardness.

He looked up at John, "This will only happen once, I won't make a habit of it."

With that, he slowly took John into his mouth and worked the boy until he, himself, cried his release.

Unbeknownst to John, however, Sebastian watched on with growing jealousy from the hall.

In the morning, John woke up in his father bed and saw a note on the nightstand.

'**Went to catch my plane. Behave, my little slut.'**

John got out of bed and found his fathers robe and wrapped it around himself before heading into the hallway. He was about to enter his room when he heard the floorboard creak behind him.

"Enjoy your night, slut? You never know.. It might be your last." He smirked and stalked off to the kitchen.

John shivered as he hurried into his room and shed his fathers robe. He quickly pulled out his clothes and hurried to shower prior to leaving. After dressing, he went into the kitchen and tried, to no avail, to ignore Sebastian's existence.

It didn't take long before he found himself slammed into a wall with Sebastian looming over him with a sneer twisting his face. He slammed his lips against John's briefly before moving away, shoving the boy onto the floor.

John looked up with large eyes, fearing rape from the violent man.

"Don't flatter yourself. I wanted Jim's kiss, not yours. Now get your ass up," He growled, snatching keys up from the table, "I'm to take you to school."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

It had been four days since Johns father went on his trip, leaving him with Sebastian; the very man who tried killing him five days ago, then kissed him the next day. John got up to get ready for school, still fearing Sebastian would try to do physical harm to him. He stepped into the kitchen to get his breakfast but didn't see Sebastian. Once again he was out. John let out a sigh, he would have to catch the bus again. When he left the house, he locked up and started towards the bus stop. He got there in time to catch it to school; he got dropped off and walked to school. His phone went off.

'Have a good day' JM

John was confused, his father never sent these kind of texts to him. He thought back to the other night, it was like his father actually cared for him. Sherlock hadn't returned to school yet from his injury, he had chosen to take the rest of the week off. Johns friend, Mike, came up to him.

"John, you look better than four days ago!"

"Yeah, my dad has been out of town." John said with sadness in his voice.

"You miss him?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, I know I have hated the man since the first time he assaulted me… But all of sudden he's being sort of nice." John stated.

"As in he was gentle?" Mike asked.

"Yeah." John said.

"Okay, then. I will see you at lunch."

They both headed off to class. John got another text and stopped in surprised. He was knocked into by another student, which brought him back from wherever he went to. He got to class, once again English. They were reading out essays they had written about the book of the month; John was unaware of the event coming up. Four days ago, he discovered his father did care for him but never showed it. It was Johns turn to read out loud. Once class was over it was time for science and it still scared him to step into the room but he had no choice. He walked in and took his seat, unaware that he was once more in the sight of a sniper.

Sebastian smoked his cigarette and once again studied his rifle to double check that it was ready to shoot the brat. This time he would not fail. He tossed his cigarette on the ground and snuffed it out with his boot before he started to crouch down to aim at the boy settling into his desk.

"I knew it."

Sebastian whirled on his heel to face the voice behind him. To his surprise, Jim was standing by the door with a stoic expression. The copper haired man growled.

"How did you figure it was me?" He asked, staring at Jim defiantly.

"My business trip was a fake. I spent the last few nights calling in a few favors- security tapes to be exact. I saw you trailing John. Child's play, really. You think you're so smart."

Sebastian clicked his tongue. So close. He almost got rid of the pest.

"Why the hell are you doing this?" Jim growled, stalking up to Sebastian with a predator's lope. He grabbed the man by the lapel and yanked him up best he could, for he was shorter than the other. "Leave John alone, he has nothing to do with you."

"The hell he doesn't, Jim." Sebastian bit out, shaking off the others grip so he could loom over the man. "I don't like that brat anywhere near you, let alone touching you and sleeping with you."

"What the bloody hell do you care? What does it matter to you who I decide to sleep with? He's my toy, I'll sleep with him whenever the fuck I want, I'll torture him whenever the fuck I want, I'll do whatever the fuck I want." Jim finished with a near guttural growl as he lunged at Sebastian, headbutting the sniper to the ground.

"Why do I fucking care?" Sebastian cried out, decking Jim and knocking him off him so he could spring to his feet. "Because you're mine, that's why. You belong to me whether you like it or not."

Jim snarled and tackled the other man. "I belong to no one. I am not yours, I am not Johns and I am not fathers. I own people, not the other way around." He ground his knee into Sebastian's back. The sniper bit into his lip to keep from crying out, blood welling up from it. Jim grabbed the copper locks of his opponent and forced his head back painfully so he could whisper in his ear, "I will never be yours."

Jim stood up and began to stalk away from Sebastian, thinking it was over. Without warning, Jim felt something smash into him and he found himself hanging precariously over the edge of the roof.

"If I can't have you, no one will." Sebastian whispered before throwing them both off the roof.

The screams of pedestrians and the maniacal laughing of Sebastian was the last thing Jim heard before his world went black.

A few seconds later, Sebastian gasped out. Jim had managed to cushion his fall just enough to not have died immediately. He felt his body was broken and bleeding. He would bleed out shortly. He, however, did not want to wait. He wanted to be with Jim now.

With the remaining strength he had, he pulled his revolver out of his pocket, removed the safety and pressed it to his head. "I couldn't help but love you, Jim." He whispered through the blood filling his mouth. With that, he pulled the trigger, ending his life.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The students heard sirens wailing from across the street. All the students went to the window; John looked out the window as well, not knowing what he was looking at.

Back down at the fall scene, Mycroft stepped out of his car with Sherlock by his side. The elder Holmes gave Detective Inspector Lestrade an annoyed look; Lestrade hated that look.

"I know you said not to disturb you while you're in a meeting, but this is something I think you should see." DI Lestrade said.

"It better be worth it." Mycroft sneered. Sherlock never liked to get between Lestrade and Mycrofts little tizzies.

"Show us the crime scene."

They walked over and Sherlock saw two bodies covered in sheets. Sherlock put some plastic gloves and lifted one sheet.

"That's Sebastian Moran, a trained sniper." Mycroft told Sherlock.

"He fell off the roof by the amount of blood on the ground. He didn't die from the fall… he shot himself." Sherlock stated.

"Let's see who the other person is."

Sherlock glared at his brother and then went over to the other body and pulled up the sheet. "Brother, who is it?" Mycroft asked after seeing the horrified look on his face.

"James Moriarty." Sherlock told him, showing Mycroft. "He was killed by the fall instantly; Mycroft isn't Sebastian Jims right hand man?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah, they must have been fighting over something." Mycroft said, deducing this from the position of the bodies.

"I need to see the roof." Sherlock stated. The Detective Inspector acquiesced. He followed Lestrade up to the roof.

"So, how is your arm doing?" Lestrade asked conversationally while going up the steps.

"Fine." Sherlock answered as they got onto the roof. Sherlock saw some blood and spotted a sniper rifle and knelt next to it. He pulled out his pocket magnifying lens and quickly studied the area around it. He ran a finger along the ground and sniffed.

"It wasn't fired today, but it has been fired recently."

He began wandering the scene, studying the blood and studying the footprints in the dust.

"They had an argument, one that escalated. One fell here, the other walked away. He was rushed, pushed off the building from the looks of it." He muttered in a rush.

"Can you tell me why a sniper was up here?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock looked over the edge of the roof and looked across. It was the school building. He was trying to figure out who his target was when he saw his classroom. He felt his heart beat faster and Lestrade looked at him worried. He walked up to him and looked in the same direction.

"Is Sebastian the sniper from four days ago?"

"My bet is yes. From here there is a perfect view of John's desk, a sniper attempting to kill him and, now, we find Sebastian dead. I know he was sniper from his military records that brother dear so kindly showed me." Sherlock muttered before he saw a cell phone at the edge of the roof. He picked it up, turned it on and look through the photos. "He was tailing John, had everything about him."

"I've got to get a team up here." Lestrade called it in.

Sherlock was back down at the crime scene. He walked pass the bodies and to the car; Mycroft followed.

"What did you find?" Mycroft asked flatly.

"Sebastian's sniper rifle. He must have been the sniper from the other day."

"Any proof?" Mycroft asked.

"His cell phone fell out of his pocket on the roof. He was following John. He had his class schedule as well as pictures of where he sat in window seats to get the best shot. That's how he knew that my classroom was perfect spot to kill him."

"James must have caught on and came to stop him." Mycroft said.

"Yeah, that's what I figured. But what about John? He only has a drunk sister left." Sherlock said.

"If I can arrange for you to be his guardian, would you behave yourself?" Mycroft asked.

"Yes, your highness." Sherlock said annoyed, "After all, you are the British Government."

"Oh, and I still wonder why mummy and father brought you home." Mycroft muttered while getting into the car. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Oh, just get in." Mycroft grumbled, annoyed with his baby brother. Sherlock got in the car and buckled his safety belt..

"Do you think there's something wrong with us?" Sherlock asked.

"No, James abused John and that man doesn't deserve an ounce of remorse." Mycroft told Sherlock, "I am dropping you off at the police station. Lestrade has to tell John the news and I think it's best you go with him."

In the Meantime, John had taken the bus back home and ate dinner. He didn't expect to hear the doorbell. He opened the door, surprised to see Lestrade and Sherlock.

"May we come in?" DI Lestrade asked.

"Yeah." John said confused, letting them in.

"So why are you here?" he asked.

"It'd be best if you sat down." Lestrade told him. John sat down, fear gripping him.

Lestrade took a deep breath, "It's unfortunate for me to inform you, but your father is dead. I'm sorry for your loss"

Johns world suddenly stopped. 'Your father is dead' rang in his head like a mantra. He didn't have to fear him anymore but, he still felt a little sad. Sherlock stood unsure what to do for he never had to do this before. He went over to John.

"John."

The boy looked up. Sherlock quickly thought of what he was supposed to say. He cleared his throat and awkwardly mumbled, "Are you okay?"

"I…I probably will be but what happened?" John asked.

"He fell off a warehouse building. We don't know what happened completely… Um…But, we think Sebastian and he had an argument that escalated and ended in them falling." Sherlock explained.

"S…Sebastian was there, too?" John sat back in the couch, "Jim knew." John whispered. Sherlock and Lestrade looked at each other.

"Knew what?" Lestrade asked.

"I knew from the night of the attempt on my life that it was Sebastian. I didn't think he'd believe me so I didn't say anything. He left the next morning after coming back to check on me." John told Lestrade.

"Sebastian was in love with my father and jealous of me." John whispered just before starting to cry, Sherlock looked at Lestrade who shrugged and he tried to figure out what to do. He awkwardly sat down and wrapped his arms around the boy, stiff in fear he was doing something wrong for this was foreign to him.

"Um… I am going to go. Mycroft wants you stay with him." Lestrade said.

"It will be fine." Sherlock said.

Later that night, John had fell asleep after crying for hours. Sherlock put John in his bed and closed the door, taking the couch for the night; he didn't like being in Jim's house but John need him now.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

John was putting the last of his boxes into his new room; it had only been a week since his fathers death. He had moved in with Sherlock since he had no one else. As the teen looked around he felt safer but still felt alone in the world. Sherlock knocked on the bedroom door.

"How is it going?" Sherlock asked.

"Good, I am just looking around trying to get use to the idea." John said.

Sherlock nodded before looking at the boy, "There's food in the fridge when you get hungry."

"All Right. Um... I don't want things to get weird between us." John muttered.

"Where did that come from? Either way, they won't. Mycroft brought over this bag for you." Sherlock said, handing it over.

"Thanks." John began to look through it as Sherlock left. John put the bag with the rest of his stuff lying on his bed. He stared at his bed, thinking about the recent string of sleepless nights. Every night he had the same nightmare of his father. With a shiver, the teen decide to get some food. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge and then closed it quickly only to reopen it. He just stared for a minute.

"Sherlock. Why is there a severed arm in the fridge next to the jam?" John asked.

"Where else would I put it? It would decay otherwise and my experiment would be ruined. Think, John." Sherlock said, tapping a finger to his head.

John looked back at the arm wondering what the experiment was, and then grabbed the jam along with a couple of other things. The teen heard violin music and looked down the hall; he slowly walked to the bedroom and smiled. Sherlock noticed John in the door way.

"I hope it doesn't bother you. You'll be hearing it a lot. Helps me think."

John shook his head, "It doesn't bother me at all."

"I see. You like music." Sherlock said as he put the violin down.

"Yeah, you play beautifully... I... I am going to go eat and unpack now." John hurried off.

John grabbed his food and ran to his room to unpack his boxes. He started on his clothes and, about half way through, he heard some yelling. He ran downstairs and was in utter shock.

"Sherlock! You lit. The table. On fire! What is WRONG with you?!" John yelled as Sherlock put out the fire.

"Nothing to worry about, just the open flame was a tad too close to the Diethyl ether. Pay it no mind, no harm done. Try not to inhale too much though. Can you open that window for me?"

He noticed John was acting slightly different from the scared little boy he met only a few weeks ago. John just walked away, unsure of what just happened to him. He wasn't sure what he had gotten into anymore, but it sure wasn't going to be boring. Sherlock smiled. He liked how John had suddenly turned from a scared boy into a semi-normal teenager. With the boy in mind, he went up to check on John.

"Everything good?" He asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah, you don't act like this at school." John stated.

"Obviously not. Imagine the teachers faces if I lit the- oh wait, no. I have lit the lab on fire before." He mumbled, tapping a finger to his lip as he spun on his heel and paced slightly. He shook a hand in the air as if to wave it away.

"Anyways, I am not at all like what you see at school. It is an act; a farce if you will. I'm not even really a teacher, I'm here in search of a suspect for a case." The tall man explained, all the while pacing along the boys room.

He stopped abruptly, "Since we'll be living together from now on you must know that I will play violin, even if it's the middle of the night, helps me think. We've covered that. I do experiments, get used to it. There's usually only the odd fire or toxic gas that happens. My fridge, my experiments go in it, get used to that as well. What else? Oh, yes, I do go silent. Ignore me, I'll be fine shortly."

John nodded, taken aback by the sudden onslaught of information about the real person behind the science teacher whom he admired so much.

"What is the case?" He asked after a moment, curious.

"It's none of your concern- don't look at me like that. Your brain isn't developed enough to be of use to me yet."

John snorted, "So, I'm stupid, then?"

Sherlock looked down his nose at the boy and huffed, "No more stupid then the rest of the imbeciles in this world. You're probably smarter than the police would ever be. Don't take it to heart, I simply mean you're not up to my superior level."

With a haughty grin, the tall man spun on his heel and left a dumbfounded John staring after him.


	12. Chapter 12

It was dark. The only sound heard was that of an echoing whisper of his name. It was far, it was near, it was encompassing. A single sliver of silvery light shone down, illuminating an imposing figure a few feet from where he stood.

"John." Repeated the whisper.

The dark face was split with a wide grin as the figure took a step.

"Come to Daddy."

John turned and fled through the darkness; his heart palpitating wildly in his chest. He could hear the laughter, the whispers, the taunts all at once making it impossible to think.

Suddenly, it was as if he was lifted and tied to a Saint Andrew's Cross. He tried to break free but it was as if his hands and feet had sunken into the wood.

His head was ripped back, fingers digging into his scalp as breath fell across his face. "Miss me, slut?"

A cold, sharp object was placed to his throat, sliding across his neck from front to back until he felt it quickly slice down, his clothes falling off nearly immediately. He felt cold liquid slide down to his clavicle and realized his neck was bleeding. The cold wood pressing against his chest caused goosebumps to raise across his body as he felt warm breath against his back.

The ghost of his father pressed against his back, warm, hot, burning. He felt the cold metal of the knife slide down his side, slicing along the way. He felt the mans erection pressing snugly between his ass cheeks. John screamed as he tried to climb away from the man, but his hands and feet were held fast.

His father moved away and began to teasingly run the blunt edge of the blade along the boys body causing the teen to shiver when suddenly the knife began to gouge into his back, carving flesh away to form a message the boy couldn't read. As if on cue, the blackness gave away to a room of mirrors, able to see himself and his father from every angle imaginable.

Tears welled to his eyes as he saw his back reading, "My slut."

"I'm not." He cried hoarsely, attempting to wrench himself off the wooden cross. "You always will be." Came the whispered reply before the cross disappeared and the boy found himself alone in the mirrored room. He began to crawl, searching for a way out when he felt hands on his ankles, pulling him towards whatever it was that had grabbed him.

He heard a hiss from behind him and quickly rolled himself onto his back, hissing from the pain of the open, jagged wounds that were there. His father stood, towering over him with a branding iron in one hand. The man smiled maliciously as he put the iron into a fire that appeared out of nowhere. The man crawled towards John who was scrambling backwards to get away from his father, but to no avail. The man was on him, ripping at his neck with his teeth as he roughly thrust himself into the sobbing boy. The older mans nails biting into the wrists as he held them above the boys head as he thrust into the teen with abandon, not caring for the blood that came from the boys rear end or the screams of pain and terror that wrenched itself from the young ones throat.

When he was spent, his father rose and lifted the branding iron and made to press it to the boys face, the word, written backwards, was 'slut'.

John sat up, screaming in absolute terror. His face and pillow were wet from tears. He quickly checked his entire body to see if any of the wounds where there. He let out a shaky sob and put his face in his hands, breathing in harshly and swallowing back a sob. After collecting himself, he got out of bed and attempted to make his way to the hall. He had to reassure himself his father could no longer hurt him. When he opened the door, the sweet sounds of a violin recreating the soothing sound of Canon in D Major washed over him, almost making the fear melt away. He quietly made his way to the others chamber and opened the door.

"Did I wake you?" Sherlock asked, stopping his playing.

"Please, continue." John replied, his voice trembling. The elder man asked no questions and simply nodded, picking up where he left off as John crawled into his bed. He soon fell back asleep to the beautiful melody of Air.

John woke up the next morning to see sunlight filtering in through the curtains. He got up and walked to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he put a hand to his chest where his father had carved 'mine' on it. He wouldn't be able to get rid of the mark. Sherlock came upstairs to see of John was alright.

Sherlocked leaned against the door frame. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine... Just getting ready for school."

"Alright. I've got to leave now. I left some money for the bus, the stop is at the corner, you can't miss it." Sherlock told him.

John nodded as Sherlock walked off; he hadn't told his new guardian about the mark on his chest. John got dressed for school and went downstairs to get breakfast; he saw the envelope on the fridge labeled 'bus money'. He didn't eat much for breakfast, he was still upset over his nightmare. He may not be scared anymore of being assaulted every night, but he was still scared. It was ingrained now.

John grabbed his bag and opened the door,stopping fast when he saw Mycroft standing there.

"I came here to give you a ride."

"I can take the bus." John said, locking the door.

"I know, but I would like to talk with you." Mycroft insisted. The teen didn't fight him on it and got in the car. "So how was your first day?"

"Okay, I found out he's another person at home." John said.

"He explain why?" Mycroft asked.

"Yeah, he said he was on a case but won't tell me what." John told him.

"It is important you keep it a secret." Mycroft said as the car stopped.

"I will, you can count on it." John said.

The teen got out of the car and walked into school. Mycroft texted Sherlock as he left the school.

"John." A female voice called.

"Oh, hi, Mary." He replied, turning to the girl.

"It's good you're back, I hope you're feeling better." She said.

"Yeah, I've got to see my science teacher, later." John lied. He hurried off to Sherlocks classroom.

"Hey, John, Mycroft told me he dropped you off." Sherlock said, regarding John with a half-lidded gaze. He still seemed out of it. "John, are you sure you're alright?"

The bell rang before Sherlock could get an answer and let out a sigh. John scurried off without answering the teacher.

The school day went by fast; John was on his way to his locker across from Sherlock classroom at the end of the day. He saw a female walk in as he got to his locker. He got himself ready to leave and headed for the science classroom to talk to his new guardian.

He walked up to the door just in time to see the tall, leggy woman in a pantsuit leaning over the desk and whispering in Sherlock's ear. He could see the man was shoving down his urge to move away, dislike of people being in his personal space and all that.

John looked to the side a moment, pursed his lips before deciding to clear his throat. "I apologize for interrupting, but I do believe I had an appointment with Mr. Holmes after class." He said casually, keeping his gaze adverted and staring up at the ceiling. The woman gave him a sultry glance before she straightened herself and smiled at the science teacher and murmured, "Think about it." Before she sashayed out the door, closing it behind her.

John glanced at the closed door and muttered, "How professional."

"While I appreciate being saved before that went into sexual harassment on her part, she happens to be the suspect I need information from." Sherlock sighed and ran a hand over his face, "She invited me for drinks, I should follow through to see if I can get more information from her. Will you be alright?"

He didn't need to add the insinuation of his nightmares, it was clear for them to see. John sighed and rubbed his arm slightly.

"Honestly? I'd prefer someone with me, but I don't want to get in the way of the case. Go, try and get your information. I'll be alright. I can converse with that skull you have. He can keep me company. He seems to be enough company for you."

The corners of Sherlocks mouth twitched before he chuckled lightly and gracefully stood up. He walked up to John and leaned down slightly so that his breath ghosted across Johns ear. "No matter what you see, I have no feelings for that woman. I will do whatever is necessary to get my answers, but that by no means is reality. It will be as much of an act as my being a teacher is. Do not let her know about us under any circumstances. You cannot let any flirtation or touching get you riled. Understood?"

John nodded, gulping slightly as he felt a flush rush to his face. The masculine scent, that deep baritone, the warmth of the tall body in front of him. He shivered as Sherlock pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips before he turned away, removing his lab coat.

"I'll take you home, I need to get dressed up for my... 'date'."


	13. Chapter 13

Sherlock looked down at his choice of dress. He didn't want to appear to be overly interested or showy; not designer clothes.. That would blow his cover. A cheap, cotton Aubergine dress shirt with the first two buttons open and cheap black trousers completed the look of a humble, maybe interested, teacher.

He glared out the window of the cab as it drove him to the bar he promised to meet Ms. Adler at. With a huff, he got out and rearranged his features and expressions to play the perfect bashful teacher that his cover was.

Adler was waiting for him at a table already as he entered the bar. He surveyed quickly the patrons, deducing their secrets and making his way to her table. No one suspicious so far, it seemed. He smiled and did small chat, using strategic questions in hopes of getting some answers, but so far he wasn't in luck.

The waitress brought a bottle of wine and two long stemmed glasses; clearly her choice. He fought down a knowing smirk. She wanted him drunk and at her mercy. Two can play at that game.

Hours passed and he had not gotten any information. She was clever. He began to pretend to start getting tipsy and went into the restroom to regroup and quickly think of a possible way to get some information. He had to know who that man was and where she kept the evidence. Just that tidbit alone would help his search as it is. He knew she at least had photos of the possible assassin, but there was a possibility she knew his name as well. Sherlock nodded, coming up with a plan as he returned to the table where Adler had just uncorked a second bottle of wine and refilled his glass. Time to act.

Sherlock glanced quickly around for any phones through his thick lashes, the glass of wine hovering under his nose as he pretended to drink some whenever Adler looked his way. He began to waver slightly and leaned heavily against her. She smirked and nuzzled his neck, leaving a trail of lipstick along his collar and neck as she whispered, "Getting a little frisky?"

He groaned and murmured, "Can I use your phone?" She tensed up before replying as smoothly as possible, "Sorry, I don't have my phone on me. They have a pay phone just outside if you have to tell someone you'll be late."

He filed that away in his head, knowing she had her cell phone on her for she had sent two texts and received a call when she thought he was either too drunk or not paying attention.

"I better get going." He hiccuped and groggily got to his feet, swaying slightly and stumbling as he made his way to the door.

She rushed after him, "Wait! I thought you were coming by my place. It would be worth your while." She cooed and he shrugged her off, making it seem like he simply lost his balance.

"No, no.. School tomorrow. Need to get home. Taxi!" The cab pulled up and he bid Adler a drunken adieu.

Once in the car and after he slurred his home address he glanced out the window to make sure she was gone before he straightened himself out and let his mind work out the pieces of the puzzle as they began to unlock the bigger picture.

When they arrived at his place, he paid the cab and walked to his house at a brisk pace, all but flinging open the door as he walked in, startling John who was passing by said door with a cup of tea.

Sherlocks eyes scanned the boy, noting the bags under his eyes, the dilated pupils and the quickening of breath. Either he surprised the teen to a crazy extent or he just had a nightmare.

It didn't take long for John's demeanor to change. He noticed the boy studying him, walking up to him with a sniff and a muttered, "Welcome back." Before the teen grumpily stalked to his room and shut the door with a loud click.

Sherlock stared on in confusion as he began to unbutton his dress shirt. He toed off his shoes and stripped off as he made his way to the bathroom. He wanted the stench of wine and the sickly sweet perfume of Adler off his body as soon as possible. A glance at the mirror showed a line of lipstick across his neck. With a sneer he wiped it off with toilet paper and discarded it before stepping into the shower and turning the knobs. He needed to be clean.

John was in his room, hands around his knees almost crying. It seemed silly how he could have ever thought that Sherlock might actually be interested in him. He was too busy getting close to that woman. He saw her. She was an attractive woman and she was making advances on Sherlock, the man John was in love with. He started to wonder if he even had a chance with the man. After all, he was a slut. For six years his father had called him that so it must be true.

"Get that thought out of your head." John murmured to himself. "He wasn't right. It was a lie... a lie.."

His father was just a cruel man and Sherlock was willing to risk everything to save John even if it meant getting into bed with him. John still felt bad about that night, he didn't want to hurt Sherlock. Apparently he hadn't, but Johns father started trouble for the man John adored. John realized he need to clear his head out of this stupid mental war between who he was and who he is now.

Trying to put the thoughts out of his mind, he decided to take a quick shower. He grabbed a pair of boxers and made his way into the bathroom. What he was not expecting was to open the door in time to see steam pouring out around the pale, lanky figure of his teacher. Damp curls plastered to his beautiful face as he stared wide-eyed at the teen, a towel hanging limply in his grasp.

* * *

**Thank you to all the wonderful comments we have gotten so far, I am thankful for Winterimperfect help on the story.**

**I hope you like how the story turning out so far!**


	14. Chapter 14

Sherlock stared, locked in a heated gaze with his young charge as he stood nude. He should wrap the towel around his waist, he should leave as fast as possible to escape that gaze and any criminal offenses he would commit if he didn't escape that look.

Johns face slowly flushed as he took in the details of Sherlocks nude body. When they did it under the threat of death from his father he didn't have time to admire the lithe, long body that was this man.

Without thinking he reached out and let his hand touch Sherlocks sinewy arm, not realising that would snap what little self control the man had. He found himself wrapped in said strong arms and his mouth captured. Johns eyelids fluttered shut as the intoxicating scent and taste of this gorgeous man overtook his system. He found his back against the wall shortly as the older man worked his mouth. His hands didn't wander or move anywhere and stayed firmly on his hips. They broke away with a moist sound before Sherlock's smoldering gaze met his.

"This is not the time." He whispered huskily before placing a delicate kiss on the teens forehead.

When John caught his breath the man was gone, his towel on the floor. The teens face heated up as he realised that meant Sherlock was walking around the house nude.

He decided to no longer take a shower. Thoughts of the previous occupant naked filled his mind and he had to slip a hand into his pants to readjust himself, laying his erection flat to his stomach where the waistband held it in a more comfortable, less obvious way.

He left the bathroom and made his way to the kitchen to get another cup of tea to calm his frazzled nerves. His heart began to palpitate as he entered the kitchen to see Sherlock in his silk pajama pants and little else. The older man glanced over his shoulder.

"Tea?" He asked, rhetorically most likely for he already had two cups in front of him, steeping.

John kept his gaze adverted from the lean frame on display, nearly jumping as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"John. Look at me."

The teen gulped and slowly moved his head to look up at the tall male. The glasz eyes holding his attention as they came closer before lids closed over them and he was kissing his teacher once again. It was less passionate, less hasty, more chaste and innocent. Savory.

It went on for what seemed like an eternity; light movements of lips, warm body heat encompassing, little puffs of breath from the nose before they pulled apart. They stared into each others eyes before the elder leaned in once more, only to be interrupted by the doorbell.

Sherlock cursed under his breath and straightened, snagging his discarded dress shirt from the floor and pulling it on to at least attempt some decency before opening the door, a growled 'what?' on his lips before he stopped.

It was Ms. Adler. He glanced quickly behind himself to make sure John wasn't in view before he spoke, schooling his features into a pleasant look that clashed with his mental musings and sulking.

"Why, Ms. Adler. Why ever are you here?" He questioned while mentally he was wondering how she found him.

"I was worried to if you got home alright. You were quite drunk and I wanted to make sure you made it home alright. I see you have." She stated, studying him curiously.

He knew what she saw. Swollen lips, dilated pupils, messy hair, quickly tossed on shirt and loose pajama bottoms. She assumed he was interrupted during some carnal act.

"How did you find my address? Would you like to come in?" He questioned, making sure he was loud enough for John to know to hide. The school didn't know yet that John was his charge.

"Oh, the secretary gave it to me when I called," A lie, he deduced. The secretary doesn't know the teachers addresses by heart, and even if she did, he was listed under one of his brothers apartments. "I don't want to be any bother, I'll see you tomorrow!" She finished quickly before turning on her heel and briskly leaving.

He closed the door with a brow raised as he let his dress shirt drop to the floor. Curious. She must have trailed him or questioned the cabbie. Interesting.

He smiled as he walked quickly to his own bedroom, calling out a good night to John as he went to work out what he could of this... Irene Adler.

–

School was relatively uneventful for both John and Sherlock. Adler didn't come knocking and no troubles could be seen. Throughout the day, John was working up his courage to ask Sherlock's help on something specific he felt he needed.

Once the two were home, Sherlock went to brush passed him and lock himself in his room. The teen was going to have none of that.

John grabbed Sherlocks arm as he went to brush by. Sherlock looked suddenly at John, making eye contact.

"I want to learn to fight. I want to help." John said.

"No." Sherlock said, shaking out of John's death grip.

"Please, I want to be able to help…" John insisted.

"Give me one good reason to teach you." Sherlock demanded.

"I am tired of being helpless! For six years I was helpless." John said. Sherlock let out a sigh.

"Fine, I will teach you." Sherlock said reluctantly.

John smiled when Sherlock wasn't looking at him. Sherlock moved some of the furniture to make more space. John just watched him, amazed. Everything the man did amazed him. He was trying not to turn red as he looked at Sherlocks body. Sherlock turned and looked at him.

"So, you ready?" Sherlock asked. John snapped back to reality.

"Are you ready?" He repeated.

"Yeah." John said.

"Okay, first things first. You need to know the best pose for you. Everyone has their own balance and center of gravity. Try to find one that you feel is perfect. This is what mine looks like." Sherlock instructed, widening his stance and bending his knees slightly, lowering his pelvis just so as he brought his arms up protectively to shield his upper body. A boxers stance.

John nodded and imitated Sherlocks stance, though he felt off kilter. He began experimenting, moving his legs a little closer together, lowering himself a touch more and almost curling as he outstretched his arms into what he felt was comfortable. The taller man nodded and walked forward, pushing at John. He stayed firm.

"Fantastic," Sherlock murmured into his ear, "You appear to be a natural. Next, do some practice punches. Try not to overstretch your arms, keep your elbow bent slightly or else it'll hurt. You'll pull muscles and you'll get hit with a painful recoil should you punch something solid like that."

John nodded and did a few practice punches. Sherlock corrected some of his form and to not over stretch until he felt the boy got it right. This went on for various exercises. Kicking, punching, upper cut. He was starting to get the hang of it while the elder man explained that he'd have to work by himself to build up the muscles before they could spar. In the meantime, he wanted to teach John some defensive techniques in case he had to defend himself before his muscles were ready to fight.

"Okay. This will work better for you than for me. If someone is running right for you, do this." Sherlock demonstrated by going into his fighting stance before he leaned forward, bending his right leg into a ninety degree angle while straightening his left leg back- though still keeping the knee slightly bent- bracing his right elbow against his upper right thigh, curling his left arm across his chest and curling his back, lowering his head. John studied the position.

"This will make it easier to toss a taller opponent over your shoulder." He explained. John nodded before mimicking what he saw the other doing.

This went on with Sherlock teaching him places to hit to knock an enemy out, a quick succession of hits to daze an enemy, even ways to kill someone with his bare hands if the need arose.

So intent were the two that they failed to hear the door open.

Lestrade came into the living room and saw Sherlock teaching John some fighting moves. Lestrade just watched briefly before Sherlock noticed him there.

"Lestrade, you want something?" Sherlock asked.

"Stopped by to bring this over." He showed him a file, "So you're learning from Sherlock?"

"Yeah…" John said.

"Let a real man show you how to fight." Lestrade said.

"Oh, you think you can do better than me?" Sherlock drawled.

"Yeah." Lestrade said, grinning.

"I'd like to see this." Sherlock said sitting down. John just looked between the two men confused, he wasn't about to say anything either.

Lestrade began demonstrating certain moves he learned only for Sherlock to snicker and say they covered it. The two men began taunting each other and John decided to just sit down, giving up learning anymore today since they were both facing each other in their respective fighting stances.

It didn't take long, one punch directed at Sherlock and the taller man had clasped the mans arm between his upper arm and torso and crouched, unbalancing the Detective before the taller man flipped Lestrade onto his back, on the floor with a foot on his chest.

"I win." Sherlock grinned, having deduced the exact move the Detective was going to start with.

Lestrade was on the verge of pouting when Sherlock let him up and they went into the kitchen to make coffee to drink while going over the case file. John decided to head to bed.

John laid in his bed that night a little sore but otherwise happy. He kept thinking of when he walked in on Sherlock and started to feel an erection swelling between his thighs. Not what he need right now. He was trying to get the thought out of his head, but nothing worked until eventually he just fell asleep, haunted by the images of a coy and nude Sherlock Holmes.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

John was in math class trying to focus on a quiz. He couldn't clear his mind; the last two days had been awkward and wonderful. Thankfully, the day was almost over. He couldn't wait to get home at this point. He finished the quiz and waited for the bell to ring; when the bell rang everyone hurried out to their buses or rides. John went to Sherlock's class room like he always did after school; he had to wait for Sherlock to do some paperwork.

During the school day, Irene Adler had a good two hour break before the end of school and she wasn't supposed to leave prior to that time. The Principal was out for the day, so she snuck into his office. Someone was in his house last night. She swore he was single but thought perchance it was a mistake in her information. She pulled a bobby pin from her hair and began wiggling it into the lock of the filing cabinet. After a few moments she grinned as it unlocked. She opened it and found the file on Mr. Holmes. No Wife listed, emergency contacts were obviously family members.

A frown quickly marred her features as she saw an address different from the one she had ended up at last night. She quickly wondered if maybe instead of going home he went to his lovers house, but quickly dismissed it for he looked very comfortable and the inside décor was clearly his tastes. Definitely his house.

She pulled out her phone and punched in a number.

"Hi, it's Adler." She said, "I need a favor. Security tapes." She said smiling. She nodded and quickly wrote down an address. "See you soon." She cooed into the phone.

She quickly left the building and went to the drop off. She winked at the businessman who looked at her with annoyance as he shoved the tapes into her hands. Adler waved a photo in his face, enjoying as he got flustered and left in a rush. With a grin over her should she left to go back to the school, she couldn't be gone for too long or someone would notice she left the building. She slipped back into the building carefully and made her way to the unused biology classroom. She pulled out the ancient TV-VCR combo, amazed at the fact these tapes were still in VHS format. She sat down and began to watch them curiously. She wanted to know who Sherlock was with that night, but she had yet to see anyone else enter 221b besides Sherlock or the landlady the night she was over there. The person lived there... But who?

She glanced outside in frustration before something peaked her curiosity. Sherlock was walking to his car in the parking lot and unlocked the doors. She slid her phone out to snap a picture of her current affection when she saw someone else enter the frame. She peaked up over her phone and recognized the student who had an apparent appointment with him the other day. John Watson.

She snapped photos of him getting in the car; she wondered why would the teenager be getting in to the teachers car. It could be a lift home, but the looks and body language spoke differently. A wicked smile crossed her lips. This could get juicy.

Meanwhile, Sherlock and John got home to 221b; John hurried up to the kitchen to get a snack. Sherlock took his coat off.

"You have any homework?" Sherlock asked.

"No, already did it…" John answered.

"You want to do some sparring in a few minutes or so?" Sherlock asked.

"Sure, I am going to change first." John said, hurrying to his room. Sherlock waited and grabbed Johns backpack and opened it, pulling out a notebook he usually scribbled in. He put it back quickly before John came back downstairs.

"So, you're ready then?" Sherlock asked. John nodded and smiled.

"I'll take it easy on you since your muscles still aren't up to a full on spar, but you've been practicing for a few days so a light spar should be alright." Sherlock replied, sinking into his stance.

John was taken by surprise as Sherlock randomly called out something about 'Queensbury rules' and followed it with a punch which John barely dodged, almost loosing his balance before regaining it and sliding into his own stance. He threw his own punch, but it was easily blocked by the superior Sherlock. The two exchanged light blows before Sherlock told him it was enough after three minutes.

"No more or you won't be able to move properly tomorrow." Sherlock said as he turned around.

John bit down a giggle as he tackled Sherlock to the ground, pinning him. "I win." The teen chortled. Sherlock let out a snort and mentioned the Queensbury thing once more, but John wasn't listening. He was too busy lost in the taller mans haunting eyes.

He grabbed Sherlocks t-shirt and lifted the upper half of the man where he pressed his lips against the taller of the two. Sherlock rolled, pinning John below him as he continued to kiss but stopped when he felt the boy go still. He quickly got off as he felt the panic from the boy below him, still recovering from years of sexual abuse. Sherlock backed off and John slowly sat up. Sherlock left quickly and John felt ashamed, looking away as the taller man returned, crouching in front of him.

"Listen. I'm putting you in control. Take these, tie me up, and do what you wish to me. This way you know you're not a toy." Sherlock whispered gently, pressing two of his scarves into the boys hand.

The taller of the two stood and walked out of the room, heading for the bedroom. By the time John followed dazedly, he walked in on a topless Sherlock lounging on the bed. Sherlock smiled at John as the teen slowly crawled onto the bed, the two scarves held in his hand. The teacher lifted his arms up and out, waiting for the boy to secure them to the bars of his headboard.

Shakily, John crawled over to Sherlocks right arm where he secured it with the soft, silky blue scarf he saw him wear often. He quickly scuttled to the mans left arm where he suspended it with the rarely worn red scarf.

He looked down at Sherlock who regarded him calmly, though his pupils were dilated and want was easily seen in his glowing eyes and tented pants. John shivered as he gently peeled off his shirt and pants and crawled onto the bed. He clambered over the tall mans body and pressed a hesitant kiss. A few minutes into it and he was pulling Sherlocks pants off before straddling him. He was nipping at the thin, long white neck of his companion, feeling the throbbing member between his cheeks. He longed to feel it inside once more, but held back that feeling as he hesitantly asked, "Can..can I top?"

Sherlock peered at him, a small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"I already anticipated that question and while you sat dazed in the living room I quickly prepped myself." The man drawled, gesturing to a bottle of lube and a rather impressive sex toy. Johns face turned an interesting shade of red as he regarded the two items before he picked up the lube and shakily applied it to his penis.

Sherlock smiled down at the boy before he gracefully raised his legs and bent his knees until the rested against his shoulders. When John leaned forward, trying to figure out exactly where to put it, a pale- white long fingered hand snaked out and held it to his entrance. John's head shot up to where Sherlock looked to the side innocently, sliding his right hand back into the blue scarf that supposedly held him. John snorted and gave Sherlock a look before the two began giggling, only being interrupted by Sherlocks low growl of, "Get on with it, John." and the long legs grabbing the boy and pushing him into the already prepared entrance of the taller man.

The teen gasped, never having felt anything like this tight, wet, warm heat enveloping him. He nearly came right there, collapsing onto Sherlock who was too busy being in the middle of a chuckle and pleasured filled groan to complain. John was able to slowly thrust in only five times before he came, crying out into the taller mans chest, who groaned all the same, regardless of how fast it went.

Sherlock didn't mind, however. He would simply take matters into his own hands once John was asleep. He hoped the boy realised that he wasn't a toy to Sherlock with this little trust experiment.

John slowly slid out of Sherlock and sat back on his heels. Sherlock was about to slide his hands out of the bonds so that John could sleep comfortably beside him, but froze when he saw something he thought he'd never see the boy do.

The teen had his back to him, his arse raised in the air and two fingers probing his entrance. Sherlocks mouth went dry as he watched John's little prepping spectacle. He took in every detail from the little keening sounds the boy made as he teased his own entrance, to the shy glances he gave the teacher to make sure he was watching.

When the boy finally finished, Sherlock was sure he was trembling with a carnal want he never thought he'd ever be capable of feeling. He bit his lip as the boy straddled his waist before sliding a lube covered hand over Sherlocks manhood. He hissed between clenched teeth as John took his hand away just to sink down onto his dick. The teacher bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, willing his body to not just come there and then. John groaned at the stretched-full feeling that accompanied being impaled on Sherlock's impressive cock. He braced his hands on the thin mans upper stomach before he began to slowly rock himself, groaning in want as he worked himself and his partner. Sherlock couldn't take it anymore and he asked John's permission without ever opening his mouth. They locked eyes and John nodded. In a split second, Sherlocks long, limber fingers were wrapped around the boys hips helping him in his rhythm until Sherlock cried out and came into the boy, shaking with the roar of emotions he rarely ever felt. John whimpered and came once more, his cock throbbing and too sensitive to even touch as he found out when Sherlocks hand accidentally brushed the tip, causing him to keen.

The taller of the two eventually stood up, sliding the boy off his now limp member.

"Come on, let's take a shower and it's off to bed."

John groggily complied, limping slightly as he made his way to the bathroom with Sherlock.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

John woke up the next morning in Sherlocks bed, looking at his clock he smiled as it was Saturday. He remembered last night, smiling. This was the first night without a nightmare. The teen noticed Sherlock wasn't in bed but he heard violin music. John found a robe and put it over his body before going out to the living room. Sherlock was in his chair, John stood and just listened.

"I see you slept well."

"Y…Yeah." John stuttered.

"So, no nightmares?" Sherlock asked.

"No. I am going to go change." John said, turning red. John scurried to his room. Sherlock smiled at the sight of the teen wearing his robe.

John found his favorite outfit and changed quickly. He still felt embarrassed around Sherlock. His teacher was more gentle and not controlling. He got so used to being controlled that he barely knew what to do when he was in control. He went back downstairs and Sherlock was still playing the violin. Sherlock knew John wanted to talk.

"I… I wanted to thank you for last night." John said bashfully.

"There's no need to thank me, really. But, you're welcome anyways." Sherlock said.

"I spent many nights in pain from sex; I thought it was supposed to feel that way. At least... Until you came along."

"May I ask how it started?" Sherlock asked.

John sat down in the chair across from Sherlock, "It didn't take long after my mum's death; I think it had been maybe four days and he walked in my room." John paused taking a deep breath, "I don't remember much passed the pain and the blood…"

"I know it hurts." Sherlock said.

"You want to know why he called me slut?" John asked, Sherlock nodded. "He'd go on his trips and leave someone with me, they raped me just as bad as he did… Then he'd find out and punish me."

"I told you I understood your pain." Sherlock said.

"You have never explained how." John said.

"I was thirteen when my uncle moved into our mansion. He was an unemployed- drunk… He got this idea that he needed someone to please him." Sherlock paused, "He chose me and at first he didn't hurt me but slowly it got worse, he weakened my defenses."

"How did it end?" John asked.

"I killed him. My parents found me in his room, my clothes torn and the gun in my hand as I cried… I don't remember what happened that night." Sherlock answered.

"My mother told me the story of how she met my father. It's a horror story." John said.

"How did Moriarty meet such a beautiful woman?" Sherlock asked.

"My mom's husband, Kevin. He borrowed money from Jim and he missed a payment… Jim came to the flat they were renting." John paused, "He demanded payment. Needless to say Kevin couldn't pay and Jim demanded that he take my mom as full payment for the rest of the debt."

"Kevin wouldn't do it, right?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah, he was shot dead in front of my mom and my sister, Harry… He threatened to kill Harry if she didn't become his wife… You can guess what happens from there." John said.

"Yeah, I can deduce that she had sex with another man and he didn't like it." Sherlock said.

"Yeah, I became his next victim… If I hadn't seduce you into bed that one day I be dead right now…" John said.

"You know, I don't blame you. You act on emotion, which, at the time, was fear… we all act on it at one point. I was just like you." Sherlock told John.

"I can't see that, I really can't… I mean it's like you're not scared of anything." John said.

"I am scared of something… I am scared of losing you." Sherlock confessed.

"I guess you are human. I never thanked you for seeing what others ignored." John said smiling.

"You are aware that is my job… Not that I don't care for you." Sherlock quickly added, worried he said something wrong.

"I get it, but I don't understand why me, out of all the people in the world…. Did you choose me?" John asked.

"I can ask you the same question… we both have the same answer." Sherlock said to the teen.

"What about Ms. Adler?" John asked worried.

"I promise you it's just a case; I don't want her… woman aren't really my area." Sherlock stated.

John smiled and sat back going to the kitchen, he open the fridge and was not surprised but horrified. He just stared at the head and then looked at Sherlock.

"Had to put it somewhere." Sherlock simply said.

"What is it for this time?" John asked Sherlock stared at the teen, "Never mind, you won't tell me. I am not ready for that… right?"

"Right." Sherlock answered.

Sherlock got up and went up to John pulling him into a kiss; the kiss was more passionate than the first time they kissed. The teen held lightly onto Sherlocks lithe frame, he was pressed against the wall as Sherlock held onto his waist.

"This be better in the bed…" John said.

"True but who's going to be on top this time?" Sherlock asked. Johns look said it all; they went to the bedroom and closed the door behind them.


	17. Chapter 17

She blew into her hands as she hid in a doorway across the street from the flat of interest, it was a rather chilly night. She was waiting to see if anyone else would leave the flat, but so far she'd only seen Sherlock. She dared not to step into the street to get a better look at the windows, for she could be easily spotted.

Without warning, a window opened and she heard a deep voice drawl out. "Good evening, Ms. Adler. However could I help you this fine night? Were you interested in the neighbors door?"

She sighed and moved out from the doorway. She was caught, no point using excuses.

"Shall we have dinner?" Adler called up coolly. Sherlock glanced behind him quickly before turning back to her. "Where to?"

She shrugged and he nodded, closing the window. She waited outside for him to come out.

"John."

The teen looked up to where Sherlock stood in the door way looking deeply displeased.

"That woman was snooping around our flat. To protect you, I'm stuck having dinner with her. Will you be okay until I return?" He asked, pulling his T-shirt over his head and already shimming out of his pajama pants. Johns face heated up as he watched the older man toss on some clothes.

"Those look rather scratchy." The teen remarked, noting the look of disdain on Sherlocks face.

"These clothes are horrid abominations." Sherlock muttered under his breath as he secured the last button before tucking it into his pants. He sighed before leaving.

John couldn't help but feel sad, if not a little bit jealous, that Sherlock was having dinner with that woman again. He knew it was for his own protection, but that didn't stop the jealousy welling in his heart.

* * *

Sherlock muttered his displeasure mentally as he outwardly attempted to look pleased to be in a fancy restaurant with the woman he was attempting to get information out of. He ordered some wine and a plate of pasta, not like he'd eat it anyways. She ordered some shrimp dish and sent him a sultry smile as the waiter poured their wine.

After an hour or so of him attempting to not be himself as she made small talk with him, she excused herself to 'freshen up'. He waited until she was in the bathroom before he got up and went to her side of the table. He slid a hand into the pocket of her jacket and was surprised to find her mobile phone. He quickly pocketed it and sat back on his side. Hopefully, she wouldn't notice it gone until much later.

She returned and drank some more wine. She had already finished her meal and he had pushed his around enough to look like he'd eaten most of it.

"My, you eat like a bird. You should eat more. Look at how thin you are!" She cooed, looking at his plate of food as the waiter picked it up, asking if he'd like the left overs. He nodded, thinking about John, and the waiter scurried off to put it in a takeout container.

He smiled thinly at her, hoping it looked genuine as he replied, "I don't have that big of an appetite."

When the waiter brought him the take out box, he asked if he was ready for the bill. He nodded, wanting to get out of this establishment, away from this woman, and back home to crack her phone and get, hopefully, the lead he needed.

"So soon? Would you like to go to a bar?" She asked, stretching out her leg to bump his with her foot.

He swallowed the insult that danced on his tongue, smiled up at her best he could and replied, "Sorry, but I really must be going. I have to start my teaching plan for next week. I've been so busy I've fallen behind."

She pouted and he quickly stood and put on his suit jacket. He bid her adieu when they parted ways at the door. He waited until she was gone before he hailed a cab to return to 221B. While in the cab he pulled her phone out of his pocket and frowned when he saw it password protected.

"I don't know what I expected, after all, she doesn't like it out of her reach." He murmured, tapping in a few number combinations. "Too easy. She's no idiot."

He pocketed the phone and began to think of whatever the password could be. He was hoping it would be a touch screen pattern style lock, but that was too easy to guess and she knew it.

When he arrived, he paid the cabbie and slid out and walked to the door, letting himself in.

Once upstairs, he looked for John. He found the boy curled up in his bed, content amidst the silk sheets. Sherlock felt his first genuine smile of the night slip across his face as he undressed, slid on his T-shirt and pajama bottoms, and laid on the bed next to John. He wouldn't actually sleep, but he felt the need to be near the boy.

He held John before receding into his mind palace, looking for any clues he could think of that would be the code to unlock the woman's phone.

* * *

John woke up the next morning feeling Sherlock warmth against him, he wanted to smile but couldn't he was still annoyed that Sherlock went out with that woman. John felt Sherlock ruffling his hair and moved away from, Sherlock looked at John asking, "What the devil is wrong with you?"

"Let's go out on a date tomorrow." John burst out.

Sherlock looked at John incredulously, wondering where such a thought came from. "Why, pray-tell, should we go on a date?" Sherlock asked, an eyebrow raised. "We're trying to keep this a secret. Do you want me to not be able to continue my case due to being taken off of it for being with a minor and thrown in jail?"

"So you just want to hide me the whole time, but you will take that woman on date." John said getting out of bed.

"Can that really be called a date? We sat down, ate dinner, she talked, I ignored, she left to go 'freshen up' or whatever, I took her phone, and then we parted ways. She's an adult and a teacher so even if we were seen I wouldn't be taken off the case."

"Going out to dinner is a date." John stated.

"I considered it 'gathering information'." Sherlock sniffed.

"Call it whatever you want, but you can't hide me forever." John said getting his robe on.

"Hide you? Seriously, John. This is for your own protection and good. If anyone found out not only that you were living with me but we had shared a bed together, we'd be separated. I would be thrown in jail due to bedding a minor. My work would not be done either for I failed to find out the assassin's name."

"It is still hiding me, the same thing my father did." John was starting to regret that statement.

Sherlock put his face in his hand, wanting very much to just slap John for being an idiot. "Fine. We'll go on this... date. But far away and in some form of disguise. Keep it to a minimum. Restaurant only. At least then if we're recognized we can just say we met by accident and decided to have a meal."

"Fine, where does the school think I live anyways?" John asked curious.

"I don't know. Mycroft took care of it. I'm not listed here, you're not listed here." Sherlock murmured.

"Do you need to take a shower this morning?" John asked hoping the answer was no.

"No need."

"Good." John hurried off still annoyed.

The next day John was getting ready for his date with Sherlock knowing he didn't want to go, John was tired of feeling like Sherlock was ashamed of him. His father had hid him to make sure no one else touched him, he had been treated like property for 6 years. He left his bedroom to see if Sherlock was ready to go, the teen was excited to finally have his first date and it was with his guardian. Well boyfriend now would be a better term, the two had never formally talked about it.

"Sherlock, you ready?" John asked as he went into the room they shared, he saw Sherlock finish getting dressed. John stood there staring at Sherlock in his cerulean silk dress shirt, form fitting black trousers and a black suit jacket.

"Yeah, let's go." Sherlock said clearly annoyed with John.

They caught a cab to a restaurant far from the flat, John stayed quiet the whole trip. Some days he wonder if he made a mistake but he knew that was just doubt talking, Sherlock just wasn't use to being with someone. They got to the place went in and ordered dinner.

Sherlock looked around the restaurant to make sure no one from school was present, after all, it would be strange to see a teacher and student in a restaurant together. John seemed to be bubbling with excitement, a strange thing for him to see, he found.

"So, did you find anything worthwhile on your date last night?" John asked, bringing the fork full of pasta to his mouth. He kept his eyes on Sherlock as he chewed.

Sherlock looked at him, glad that at least he didn't have to order food for John knew how little he ate, before replying, "I pilfered her phone. Hopefully I can eventually get the code on it. There is over 10, 000 number combinations it could be and I rather not try them all."

John nodded, looking out the window thoughtfully.

"You truly have no feelings for her?"

Sherlock groaned, putting his face in his hand.

"I have no need for such frivolous emotions for a woman who doesn't even know who I am. I'm not interested in women, John. I never was."

John felt his heart jump a little and he quickly glanced away, hoping to hide his blush.

"You're just too good an actor." The boy murmured.

"It's what keeps me alive and helps me get my leads. I need to be good at it."

John nodded as Sherlock continued to glance out the window on occasion, as if making sure no one they knew saw them. The last they needed was Sherlock to be pulled from school before getting all the information he needed and to be pulled from John and tossed in jail for statutory rape.

After a while, Sherlock looked at John and saw he was done eating.

"Shall we?"

John looked up, saddened by the fact their date was already over. He nodded and stood up, pulling on his coat as Sherlock stood and slid on his suit jacket.

The taller of the two paid the bill and before long they were out on the damp streets of London. Sherlock went to hail a cab but John stopped him.

"I want to walk a little with you; I don't want to go home yet." John murmured, ignoring the irritated huff of the taller man.

"Fine. Where to?" Sherlock asked, impatience coloring his voice. He wanted to go home and work on his case, not.. Go for a walk.

John just shrugged and began walking in a random direction, Sherlock following close behind. Before long they came to a park and John decided to sit down. The taller man looked around in distaste before lowering himself next to the other.

"It's so beautiful tonight. Look, the sky has cleared up and we can see a few stars. Not as many than if we were in the country, but still.."

Sherlock snorted, having no interest whatsoever in the stars. "I'm happy we're not in the country. Such a vile place, full of crime with everyone having the others back. You've never seen such horrible crime than what you find in the country. I never liked it out there."

John frowned but leaned back to stare at the stars in wonder. Sherlock glanced up to see what the fuss was about but just saw little glowing dots in the sky. He shrugged and began to look around, studying his surroundings. He was amused to notice a couple copulating in the bushes across and that on the next bench over was a drug dealer waiting for someone to buy from him. He knew the guy personally and made sure to keep his face pointed away lest the dealer recognize him.

Before long, John yawned and decided it was time to go home. Sherlock was beyond pleased to be finally getting back home, his mind filled with work rather than John, much to John's disappointment.


	18. Chapter 18

It had been eight weeks since Sherlock had been intimate with John and it was all over that phone he took from Irene. John was staying in his room knowing that Sherlock wouldn't pay attention to him; it was almost like Sherlock got what he wanted and didn't care for John. He went down to get breakfast after getting dressed and Sherlock was playing the violin most likely thinking of the code for the phone. John hadn't seen Irene around, but then again school had been out for six weeks now. Most the teachers went on vacation but Sherlock, of course, did nothing but think about the case.

Sherlock put the violin down and grabbed the phone; he was entering another set of numbers. He noticed John moping in the kitchen.

"What the devil is wrong with you?" Sherlock asked. John didn't answer Sherlock, just ignoring his question as he made tea. Sherlock shrugged and went back to the phone, punching in 3886, frowning when it didn't work. He sighed, going into the den and sitting in his preferred arm chair. John gripped his cup and finally the anger he been holding back for days just came out. He threw the coffee cup into the wall.

Sherlock turned around, both eyebrows raised. "John?"

"What?!" John yelled.

Sherlock raised a hand in defense. "What is your problem?"

"You and that stupid phone." John answered taking the kettle of water off the stove.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I apologize immensely if the need to find the identity of an assassin outweighs my need for carnal desire."

"I am starting to doubt you have any carnal desire!" John stated.

"I can turn off many functions in my brain. Sexual need is one of them. I have no use for it while working on a case." Sherlock told him.

"Do you even care for me?" John asked the question he had been wondering about since their date.

Sherlock sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I do not understand emotions. Never have, and never will. I don't know what it means, but I do need you."

"You don't show it..." John said.

Sherlock growled deep in his throat, glaring at John. "Showing sentiment is like telling the world to kill you because it will hurt me more than my own death."

"There is nothing wrong with Sentiment!" John yelled just before putting his hand on his abdomen.

"In my line of work there is." Sherlock said quietly, turning his back on John and walking from the room.

John grabbed his coat and cell phone before leaving the flat; he figured Sherlock never noticed he was gone. He saw Irene standing close to the door and looked at her before walking away.


	19. Chapter 19

John stormed through the streets, muttering under his breath about how robotic Sherlock was. The world was a blur through the tears the threatened to fall; he held them back, but for how much longer he didn't know.

While rounding a corner, he quickly found himself on the ground, dazed, from smacking into someone. He heard cursing from the other person who slowly got up and held out a hand to help John up.

"John?"

John looked up quickly to see Lestrade standing over him. The older man had a look of concern on his face as he studied John.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you? Why are you out at such a time? Why are you crying?" The Detective Inspector fired off the questions in rapid succession, giving away his profession quite spectacularly.

"It's nothing. Just.. Sherlock." John muttered, wiping angrily at the tears the finally spilled over.

"Oh, what did that idiot do this time?" Lestrade grumbled, taking off his coat and placing it on John's shoulders.

The teen snuggled into the coat and muttered, "Something about sentiment being bad for his job and stuff."

Lestrade nodded, understanding both arguments.

"Come to my place." Lestrade started, "Even if it's just for one night, just to get away from everything. He can work on the case to his hearts content and you can have company."

John contemplated for a moment before nodding.

–

Mycroft entered the house after working, huffing slightly as he placed his umbrella in the doorway and carefully hung his coat up. He toed off his shoes and loosened his tie just a touch. He sniffed and cocked his head, instantly noting something was amiss. Someone else was in this house.

Young, short, distressed.

He furrowed his brow. Greg rarely brought anyone home. He made his way to the kitchen, only to be rather surprised to see one John Watson at the table playing cards with Greg.

"Mycroft!" Lestrade happily called out, surprising John who hadn't even heard the elder Holmes enter.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of having Mr. Watson in the house?" Mycroft asked curiously of his lover, who was in the middle of hugging the stiff red-head.

"Sherlock was being an ass." Lestrade replied, making his way back to the table.

"When isn't he?" He muttered, disdain evident in his voice as he made his way to the fridge. "Did you make dinner?" He asked, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Lestrade replied by gesturing to a bag of takeout, causing the other man to grimace slightly at the thought of greasy fast food.

"I think I'll pass." He grumbled, pulling out what was needed to make a sandwich.

John had to hold back a snort at the thought of the stiff, elder Holmes lowering himself to the point of making a sandwich, let along eating one. Lestrade caught Johns reaction and smiled, leaning in to whisper, "He's changed a little bit since meeting me. He's a little less.. snooty."

"I heard that, Greg."

Lestrade cringed, knowing the other was displeased with him over such a comment. Mycroft tutted as he continued to make his sandwich with practiced ease.

Before long, Mycroft joined them at the table and began asking John why he was here and what did Sherlock do now.

"He never shows he cares," John started, looking to the side as he felt the anger wash over him again, "When I confronted him about it, he said he doesn't understand emotions and feels sentiment is useless."

John clenched his fist in anger recalling the audacity of the man.

"John, you have to understand something." Mycroft started, regarding John coolly, "We do not mean to seem like robots. We're different. We see everything, we see through everyone, we're detached. We don't comprehend emotions and sentiment seems useless. I need Greg. That's how I know I love him, because I need him to live."

John felt like he got slapped. "He mentioned he needed me.."

Mycroft stared at John meaningfully, "Then you got your answer, but chose to ignore it. You had a temper tantrum. You refused to understand him."

The teen now felt like he was an ass. The feelings welled up in him and he held a hand to his stomach as nausea welled up in him. He took in a deep shakey breath, putting a hand to his stomach.

"I'm feeling tired, um.. Where am I sleeping?" He asked, looking at Lestrade.

Mycroft was giving him this strange look that bothered him for some reason. It was like being seen right through, and it was more violating then when Sherlock did it.

Lestrade stood up and gestured for John to follow him. The younger man did so, being taken to a lavishly decorated guest room.

"This.. This is normally where Sherlock sleeps when he has to work with Mycroft or needs a place to lay low. Um.. I hope you sleep okay.. Don't be too harsh on Sherlock. I've been where you are now, it's difficult to love someone who doesn't understand what love is, but that doesn't mean they're incapable of it. Think about it and have a good night."

John was left in the room alone as Lestrade left him, closing the door gently behind him.

With a groan, the teen flung himself onto the silken sheets and soft down quilt that covered the king size bed. It reminded him of Sherlocks bed. He felt the tears well up again and they slid down his face as he buried his head into the pillows.

–

Lestrade entered the kitchen to see Mycroft hanging up the phone.

"Called Sherlock?" He asked, sitting down at the table and regarding the other with affection.

"Yes, he had to know. I also told him something rather important that he might have not noticed due to being to preoccupied with that case of his." Mycroft muttered, lowering himself into the chair opposite of Lestrade.

"What's that?" The Detective Inspector asked, head cocked slightly to the side in question.

"John's pregnant."


	20. Chapter 20

Lestrade and Mycroft sat together on the couch. Lestrade was in a stunned silence still from the news Mycroft had delivered him. The little boy was pregnant?

Mycroft stood suddenly, "Here's my brother."

Lestrade strained his ears but didn't even hear footsteps, but knew the other was right when someone rapped crisply at the door. Mycroft strode to the door and opened it to the site of a disheveled Sherlock Holmes.

"Is it true?" He asked, eyes wide, still in shock; his hands clamping down on his brothers forearms.

Mycroft pushed him off and brushed a hand over his shirt before stepping away. "Do you know me to play pranks, brother?"

Sherlock came in, refusing to toe off his shoes much to Mycrofts chagrin as he made himself comfortable beside Lestrade.

Lestrade was not used to seeing the proud Sherlock Holmes in such a ruffled state. He was about to make a comment when the others fierce gaze landed on him with an obvious warning. The DI backed down quickly, almost whimpering and hiding behind Mycroft.

"Brother. Calm yourself." Mycroft drawled, walking to an armchair across from the couch and lowering himself onto it to regard his brother in a regal manner. "Now." He began, "I am not lying. I do suspect the boy is pregnant. More than likely from you." He sneered the last line, unable to hide his thoughts on his brothers choice to bed someone so young.

"He doesn't think you care for him," Lestrade said to Sherlock, "I know you do, Mycroft knows you do, but he's too young to understand your thought process."

Sherlock sighed, putting his head in his hands, rubbing at his face in frustration. "I tried to tell him I needed him but that apparently wasn't enough." He sighed, looking away from the two men. "He doesn't understand that I do not comprehend what love is. To me it's such a foolish emotion, a pointless whimsy. But I understand need. Not carnal need, but an emotional attachment."

"Don't tell us, tell him." Lestrade stated, pointing towards the hall.

Sherlock turned to see John standing there, obviously having overheard what Sherlock said.

John stood there not knowing what to say. Sherlock stared at the boy embarrassed. John heard him say all that stuff about sentiment. John broke the awkward silence, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, kid." Lestrade called over. Mycroft cleared his throat to clearly tell his lover to butt out.

Sherlock sighed, "I guess you deserve an apology from myself as well." John looked at Sherlock, confused.

"I apologize for not being able to comprehend the wording you desired me to say." Sherlock muttered.

Lestrade ignored Mycroft's warning and butted in, "Sherlock. That's hardly an apology."

Mycroft sighed, "What my brother means is he's sorry for how he worded his need for you in a way you didn't catch what he meant. Better?"

John chuckled. "No, I get it. My father was the same way but he hated sentiment." John walked into the room. The three men looked at John waiting for him to continue.

"Sherlock I know you will never understand sentiment, but can you just give me some time to get use to this? Maybe every now and then show it?"

Sherlock sighed, leaning back and crossing his arms. "I'll try to, but keep in mind that when I'm on a case it's all I'm focused on. My brain must be focused on it completely, I have no time for little nuances of affection. When those times arise, I would seriously appreciate it that you understand."

"I will try." John said smiling.

"So, will you guys now leave my house?" Mycroft sniffed, wanting to have calm alone time with his lover, but instead got his brothers soap opera.

John looked at Mycroft, "One question, do you really think I am pregnant?"

Mycroft stared at him. "I do not think so, I know so."

John looked away, "I am going to get my stuff." He left the room quickly.

Sherlock regarded Mycroft, whom gave him a knowing look. Lestrade always found it creepy when the brothers communicated with their eyes alone. John came back down, "Sherlock, I'm ready."

Sherlock nodded, standing abruptly and just walked right out without any look towards Mycroft or Lestrade.

"Come along, John." John followed quickly behind.

Lestrade just looked at Sherlock and Johns retreating form as Mycroft closed the door behind them. "That man is a fricken prick." Lestrade stated, causing Mycroft to chuckle before calmly sitting beside the other man.

* * *

**reviews are welcome as always. I thank everyone who has been following this story, I hope you like this chapter!**

**Winterimperfect wrote Sherlock part (Perfect as always)**

**Winterimperfect also has a story on fanfiction called _'it will go on'_ I suggest you read it.**

**For those you might be just a bit confused or even shocked that John pregnant... it is an omegaverse but only mentioned once in chapter two while Sherlock and Lestrade are talking to each other.**


	21. Chapter 21

Sherlock was laying on the couch, eyes closed as he went over all the details he had. What could be the code of the phone? He groaned and sat up, growling slightly as he all but tossed the phone onto the coffee table. John looked up from where he was watching the telly, curled up in the armchair in front of it.

"Why can't I have a go at it?" He asked, looking at Sherlock who gave him a scathing look.

"If I can't solve it, why could you?" He sneered, his brows furrowed in frustration.

John sighed and reached over, grabbing the phone before the other could snatch it up. He went on a whim, a bit of an egotistical one, and punched in his name. Imagine his surprise when it read 'unlocked'.

Sherlock sat up straight in alarm as he heard the tone and he scrambled up, striding over behind his chair and leaning over the back, his chin resting on John's shoulder.

"You did it." Shock was evident in his voice as he repeated, "You did it!"

"By God, John, you're a genius." He gushed in excitement, kissing John on the forehead as he ran off with the phone in his hand.

Sherlock stared at the unlocked phone, giddyness bubbling inside him as he clicked the photo icon. He began to sift through them, freezing slightly when he saw a photo- obviously taken at the school- of John and he getting into the car. He dismissed it for now before going through the other pictures, tilting his head on occasion at some of the strange positions that some of the couples were in. Was this woman a voyeur? Strange.

He kept going until he found the picture he was looking for. He forwarded it to his own number before going through her contacts in hopes of finding the name of one of the men or another.

He sighed as he saw over a hundred contacts, mainly men. None of them were real names, more than likely aliases. He sighed heavily, knowing he'd have to send a copy to Lestrade before he could start searching whom each person was until he found the one needed.

John entered the room, "Anything good?"

"She knows about you, or that we at least have relations outside of school." He murmured, pulling up the photo and showing it to John.

John went pale and sat down, "She was outside the flat when I left last night."

Sherlock sighed, "Then she knows about you completely. How foolish have I been?"

"What if she finds out that I am pregnant?" John asked.

Sherlock glanced at John, "Mycroft is a freak. She won't notice. Not for a few months anyways."

"Oh, yeah, like I will be able to hide it, she's a female." John said.

"She may be smart, John, but she won't notice for a while." Sherlock replied, staring at John intensely. "Trust me."

"Of course the code into the phone was my name."

"I have a feeling that she changes it regularly. She must've changed it shortly after having seen us. That's probably why she's snooping, not just that, she's close to being a stalker."

"Yeah, but why hasn't she done anything yet?" John asked.

"I don't know." He replied, glancing out the window. "Wait. She's there. How long has she been outside?"

"I don't know, I didn't even know she was there." John said.

"She's hiding in the doorway across the street... " Sherlock looked at John, a sparkle in his eye. "John... What would you say to a vacation?"

"Yes." John answered.

Sherlock picked up his phone and sent a text.

**Being spied on. Do we still have that beach house? -SH**

"Sherlock, where would we go?" John asked.

Sherlock glanced up from his phone, "How do you feel about Spain?"

"Never been there before" John said.

"It's very sunny, bright, hot. Everything I hate, but you'll love." Sherlock replied, pocketing his phone. "Mycroft will be here shortly to take us to the airport. He'll personally take us there himself, how lovely of him."

"How long we going to be gone?" John asked.

"Maybe the rest of summer vacation? Better get packing." Sherlock smirked at John before going into his room to toss a pair of pants, a shirt, nicotine patches and his computer into a small bag.

* * *

**Winterimperfect wrote Sherlock part in this chapter.**

**For those who might think it is over, there is still more chapters to go. **

**I thank everyone who is following our story still. thank you.**


	22. Chapter 22

John smiled and went to pack his stuff in his room. Sherlock dumped his bag by the door and sat down waiting for John to come back out. In the meantime, he began sifting through the photos and contacts in that woman's phone. John came down with a suitcase and put it next to Sherlock's bag.

Sherlock looked up, "You packed quite a lot."

"Not a heck of a lot and I only have one suitcase. I didn't get much from dad's estate and even so I can't touch the funds till I am eighteen." John stated.

Sherlock nodded before standing up. "He's here. Close the curtains, turn all the lights off and lock the windows, let's go."

John turned off the lights after locking the windows, he grabbed his suitcase.

Sherlock picked up his bag and strode down the stairs. After opening the door and letting John pass before locking it, he eyed the woman across the street in an aggressive fashion before sliding into the open door of the waiting car. He eyed Mycroft and Lestrade, surprised to see them both here but said nothing of it.

John got in the car, looking towards where Irene was.

"So," Lestrade started, glancing at John. "Happy to go on vacation?"

"Yeah." John smiled.

"Great." Lestrade murmured, smiling back at John. He tried to ignore the glaring contest going on beside him between the two brothers. He really wished they stopped the eye communication thing they do.

"Do they always do that?" John asked Lestrade.

Lestrade sighed, "Yes. Yes they do. It's really creepy and it makes me uncomfortable."

"I can see why." John said.

Lestrade nodded, glancing at the brothers who were just outright glaring at each other.

"So why are you here?" John asked, looking at Lestrade.

"I don't quite know. Mycroft just asked me to come along." He shrugged helplessly, glancing at Mycroft hoping he'd explain.

"I don't think he will."

"I guess not." Lestrade sighed.

"How am I supposed to enjoy a vacation with Sherlock?"

Lestrade cocked a brow, "If you love him, isn't just being near him enough? I didn't know your feelings were so shallow."

"It's not that... I do love him, it is just..." John looked out the window. "I can't imagine him leaving the beach house."

Lestrade shrugged, "You can have your own fun. He'll watch you, that I am sure."

"I don't exactly trust a lot people." John said looking back at Lestrade.

"You don't need to. If they own it, it's a private beach."

"Wait, what?" John looked shocked.

Lestrade glanced over, "What. You didn't know? They're wealthy. Overtly so. It's their beach house and more than likely their land."

"He hasn't told me anything, he's been so busy with the case that if I leave he'd never notice I left." John sounded annoyed

Lestrade shrugged. "He's a busy man. He may be obnoxious and at times you want to murder him, but in the end he pulls through."

"I know, if it wasn't for him I be dead right now." John said.

Lestrade nodded, glancing to the side to see the brothers glaring out the window. He sighed. They pulled into the parking lot of the airport.

Mycroft got out quickly, Sherlock, Lestrade and John not far behind with their luggage.

"So.. how'd you get the tickets so fast?" John asked, looking at Sherlock, then Lestrade.

Sherlock smirked over his shoulder. "Mycroft has got a personal jet, that's what I meant when I said he'd personally bring us there."

"Jet?" John was always surprised by something.

"Yup." Lestrade replied as they made their way through the airport until they went through security before going onto the tarmac. John at this point was speechless, he couldn't even think of anything to say if he wanted to.

Once they were on the plane, Mycroft grabbed Lestrade's arm and took him to the front of the jet to settle into the plush seats there. As if in understanding, Sherlock settled in the back row, gesturing for John to sit across from him. John couldn't help but smile and look out the window. Only one question plagued his mind.

Sherlock leaned back into his chair and let his eyes slide shut. Without knowing it, he fell into a light slumber.

* * *

**Winterimperfect wrote Sherlock, Lestrade parts.**


	23. Chapter 23

John needed some advice so he went to find Lestrade. He got to where he saw the other couple go. Lestrade glanced up as he saw John approach. He lifted a finger up and pointed to where Mycroft was snoring away. He quietly got up and placed a hand in the middle of Johns back, steering him to the middle of the cabin so they could talk.

"So, he fell asleep too." John said.

"Yeah... I wonder if maybe as kids they were in an airplane so often it just lulls them to sleep or something. Those brothers are strange." Lestrade murmured, settling into another plush chair. "These seats are more comfortable than my couch at home."

"Same here. I need some advice."

"Shoot away. I'll answer best I can. I also assure you, being with a Holmes is the strangest relationship you'll ever have."

"It will probably be my only, but, um... I don't know how to talk to Sherlock about the pregnancy."

Lestrade frowned thinking, "You probably can't really talk to him about it. Children scare him, for some reason. He'll try to change the subject continuously when you bring it up. It's not that he doesn't want it, I think, he's just...uncomfortable."

"What am I supposed to do? I can't wait until I go into labor; I was pondering for two weeks how to tell him and then Mycroft tells him and I just want to find out if he wants the baby."

Lestrade pursed his lips. "To be honest, I think he does want it. It's something you guys created. It's just something new and unknown to him and since it has nothing to do with crime, he doesn't know how to act around it. That's what I feel."

"Probably, I am new at relationships. I spent six years being controlled by fear and then I meet Sherlock..."

"He won't control. Well, he does like to have some degree of control, that's just who he is, but not that kind." The DI explained.

"I know, I learned that already a few weeks ago." John said smiling.

Lestrade glanced to the side, grimacing. "I... I really don't want to know how you got pregnant, yeah?"

"No..." John smiled almost giggling.

"Because if we go that route, I shall torture you with the activities Mycroft and I get up to when he's not being a snooty arse." He whispered in John's ear to make sure that if Mycroft was awake, he wouldn't hear him say it.

"Don't worry, I don't want to know." John said.

Lestrade smiled at John, chuckling lightly as he leaned back into his chair.

"How did you meet Mycroft?"

Lestrade glanced over, "He came once to either spy on his brother or get his attention, it's a rare occurrence, but we got to talking. Next thing I know he would come more frequently than before. Sherlock then muttered for us to get on with it and let him alone with the crime scene."

"Doesn't sound romantic, but I can't see those two being romantic."

"I don't think they have a romantic bone in their body. He came at a good time. Wife left me, I was lonely. No, he's not a rebound, it's the real thing. He filled something she never could."

"You know what I am coming out of, up until our first time, I had nightmares every night... something just feels right about Sherlock."

Lestrade nodded, "While he's a chaotic human, he does have some sort of... calmness about him. A strange loyalty if you will."

"Yeah, I don't even think he's noticed the mark on my chest." John said.

"Oh, he has. He just won't bring it up because it's a sensitive subject. He's not always a blunt ass, you know. He has a little tact for those he cares about." Lestrade stated, running a hand through his hair.

"I wonder if he is still asleep." John said.

"I don't know, am I?" Came the low drawl behind them. Lestrade glanced up to see Sherlock glancing down at them, smirking mischievously.

John jumped a little. "Don't scare me like that!"

Sherlock let out a deep rumble of a chuckle as he sat down next to Lestrade. "Thanks for explain my apparent lack of tact." The DI flushed in embarrassment, putting his head in his hands as he groaned.

"When did you wake up?" John asked.

"I woke up about three minutes ago, noticed you were gone and heard hushed voices over here. I take it Mycroft is asleep? Oh, don't look so embarrassed, I only heard the last thing Lestrade said, though I can only guess what the conversation was about." Sherlock said jovially.

"Oh, my brother is awake, Lestrade." He said pointedly, waiting for Lestrade to get up and walk back to the front of the jet.

John went back to his seat knowing Sherlock would probably follow.

Sherlock furrowed his brow and followed John to the rear of the jet. "Why, pray-tell, did we move? I don't see the point."

"I don't know, I am worried that's all."

"About what?"

"About us and the fact that I am pregnant."

Sherlock glanced at John. "What is there to be worried about?"

"I am sixteen... I will always worry."

Sherlock cocked a brow and stared at John, waiting for elaboration.

"I know you need me, just like I need you, but I am worried you don't want to have a family." John said.

Sherlock stayed quiet, contemplating his answer to reply in a way that would not cause misunderstandings or pain in John. "It's not that I don't want to have a family, I'm just concerned that I wouldn't make a good father, that I would ruin the family."

John smiled, "I am sure you will be a better father than one I got..."

"I'm not so sure. Well, I wouldn't sleep with a chi-" Sherlock froze, and glanced down at John.

"I am sixteen, a teenager, and I know you wouldn't do that sort of thing." John said.

Sherlock nodded, ignoring the fact that it was still technically statutory rape. "Anyways, it's not that I don't want to have a family, I'm just unsure if I would be good in one." He touched John's hand lightly before standing up and making his way over to his brother and Lestrade. John smiled as he watched Sherlock.

Sherlock sat down with his brother and Lestrade to give John some alone time. He stayed quiet as the other two spoke in hushed tones together, and he was lulled back to sleep once more. John had gone to sleep himself, but suffering from one of his nightmares.

Sherlock woke up, alert. He concentrated to find the source of his waking. Lestrade and Mycroft had dozed off themselves, so it wasn't them. He then heard a whimper. He stood up abruptly and made his way to the back of the plane where he found John in the throws of a nightmare. He crouched down and shook his leg. "John, wake up. It's a dream, it's not real."

John woke up suddenly and looked at Sherlock his breathing heavy.

"Everything alright?" Sherlock asked, reaching a hand up and pressing it to Johns neck. He took in the pulse and stood up, getting a glass of water and handing it to the boy. "Calm down, this should help."

"I haven't had that nightmare in weeks..." John said.

"It's probably the change of routine. It can cause it."

Sherlock glanced behind him to see Lestrade standing behind him, looking both asleep and alert at the same time. John looked back and then turned away. Sherlock stood and glanced at Lestrade, asking with his facial expression what he should do, for he was foreign to comfort. Lestrade leaned in, "Just hug him. It helps."

Sherlock nodded before he knelt in front of John again and awkwardly leaned forward to wrap his arms around the boys prone form. John smiled and had to hold back the urge to kiss his lover.

Sherlock looked awkwardly in Lestrades direction, whom gave him a thumbs up before retreating, and he rested his head against Johns shoulder and slowly moved one of his arms to rub the boys back in a soothing gesture.

"Are we almost there?" John asked.

"Yes." Sherlock murmured into his shoulder.

"Thank goodness, I am starting to feel sick." John lied. Sherlock could tell the boy was lying, but let it go. He slowly moved away from John.

* * *

**Winterimperfect wrote Sherlock and Lestrade parts.**


	24. Chapter 24

Once the plane landed, everyone piled into a waiting car that took them the short distance to the beach house. John felt his breath catch as he took in the beauty of not only the villa, but of the view of the beach.

"This is our beach house." Mycroft stated as John and Sherlock got out.

"Enjoy your stay! Good bye!" Lestrade called out as John and Sherlock got their bags and began making the trek up the walkway. The car pulled away, but John didn't notice, and neither did Sherlock for he was amused by the boys facial expression.

John took in all the details, It was a one story villa, white, with beautiful archways and a rust-colored roof. Sherlock made his way to the door that was the same color as the roof. He unlocked the door and held it open for John who slowly made his way inside.

It was huge, the inside just as white. There wasn't a large amount of furniture, enough for a group of four to be comfortable without being stuck together. Wicker chairs and comfy armchairs were in the den. Moving into a large kitchen, John didn't know where to look. He'd never seen such a marvelous kitchen, but his attention to it didn't last long as he looked out through another archway to see not only the beautiful view of the sandy private beach, but a beautiful in ground pool. John nearly forgot about the rest of the house, he was too busy walking towards the deck and to the pool.

"Come along, John. We need to put our bags away." Sherlocks voice drifted from somewhere in the Villa. The teen shook his head, gave the pool a longing look, and walked towards where the voice came from.

He found Sherlock in a large room, obviously the master bedroom. It didn't have much furniture, simply an end table, a king sized bed and a dresser. Sherlock had already deposited his small bag on the bed.

"I figured we'd sleep in the same room. No one from school can see us since my family owns this land." Sherlock murmured.

John nodded, already pulling off his T-shirt. Sherlock glanced in his direction. "I know you're excited, but I'm still a little too tired to do anything vigorous with you."

John giggled, removing his pants and boxers before pulling swimming trunks out of his bag. "I'm going to do something vigorous, but it's not in the bed. I'm getting in that pool."

Sherlock felt a light flush on his cheeks and coughed, not used to being embarrassed.

John gave the other a cheeky grin before he ran off, jumping straight into the pool. Sherlock followed at a much more subdued pace, pulling out a chair to sit under an awning that covered part of the deck. He had just gotten comfortable when he heard talking from the villa a few yards away.

He glanced up only to do a double take when he saw his brother standing on the deck of the neighboring villa in nothing but swimming trunks, Lestrade running by and jumping into the pool that was next to their deck.

"Mycroft?" Sherlock exclaimed, looking scandalized at the prospect of being on vacation with his brother.

"Hello, dear brother. It's been awhile. I thought my dear Greg needed a vacation. Wouldn't you know it that I just recently bought myself a Villa in Spain.." Mycroft drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he lowered himself into a deck chair and opened the umbrella that was attached to the table.

John glanced over, "Lestrade is there? Hey! Come and play in my pool!"

Lestrade popped up and got out of the pool. Sherlock put a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as Lestrade hopped the small fence that separated their villas and hopped into the pool with John. He was more displeased when Mycroft joined him, though he took the less vigorous route.

The elder Holmes gracefully sat down next to Sherlock, watching as Lestrade and John splashed water at each other like children.

"I just wanted to keep an eye on you. If anything happened, I rather he and I be here." Mycroft explained, a smile flitting across his face as he watched John trying to hop onto Lestrade's head to force him jokingly under the water after the other made a lewd joke.

"My main question is," Sherlock began, turning to look at his brother, "Is why they're in the pool when the beach is a few feet away."

Mycroft shrugged, at a loss for words as well. The two just decided to stay quiet and watch their lovers act like children. For Mycroft, Lestrade being childish was endearing, for Sherlock, watching John act his age was comforting.

* * *

**Winterimperfect wrote this chapter**

**hope you like it.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Winterimperfect wrote this and I am positive everyone will love this if your a Johnlock or Mystrade fan.**

* * *

Sherlock was staring out at the night view of the beach as John came out from the kitchen, toweling his hair dry from the shower he just took to remove the chlorine.

"It's really beautiful here." John whispered, noting Sherlock nodding his response.

It was quiet save for a few voices off in the distance. John sat down in the chair next to Sherlock and leaned his head on the others shoulders.

The taller man smiled before raising an arm and lightly wrapping it around John's shoulders, giving the teen enough leeway to get out if he felt uncomfortable in the embrace.

Sherlock looked down at John, not masking the affection for the boy that danced in his eyes when he noted how cute John looked with ruffled hair and a towel still partially on his head.

The blonde looked up, catching the affectionate look the other gave him and he mustered up all his courage to crane his neck up and kiss the older mans full lips.

Sherlock blinked owlishly before he closed his eyes, sliding his hands up Johns sides to hold him gently in the embrace. The reaction gave the teen more courage and he pressed himself fully against the lithe form of the consulting detective.

The taller man gave a growl as he stood up abruptly with John in his arms. Scared to fall off, the small man wrapped his legs around the others thin, but curved hips. Sherlock carried the other into the villa and strode straight to the bedroom where he crawled onto the bed, John still clinging to him like a koala.

"You can let go, now." Sherlock whispered hotly into John's ear. The boy let go and fell the short distance to the mattress below.

The taller man sealed his lips with the boys, the two going into an almost frenzied battle from the length of time they had gone without physical contact. Sherlock made short work of John's jogging pants and palmed the others semi-hard member. The simple touch caused the teen to swell in the others hand until he was at full attention.

The brunette nuzzled John's throat as he slowly made his way down the others body, bypassing the scarred writing to nuzzle at the boys hip bone. He nipped lightly at it, causing the other to keen slightly at the sudden feeling.

Sherlock looked up, his eyes glittering almost in the small amount of light that filtered into the room. He suddenly moved his head down, taking the boy into his mouth and taking it all the way to the root. He was suddenly glad he had no gag reflex. He breathed harshly through his nose as he worked the boy with his tongue, sliding back up the member quickly to play at the head of the others penis. He massaged the frenulum, after a few quick strokes of the tongue he felt the boy spasm. He didn't expect the boy to already cry out his release so soon.

Sherlock's eyes widened as his mouth filled with a bitter, salty, and all around gross flavor. He turned to the side and spat it over the side of the bed. John looked at him, an apology written all across his face.

"Not your fault. I didn't know it was so... vile." Sherlock sputtered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

John still felt bad about it, but didn't have long to feel that way for Sherlock was already probing his entrance with a lubed up finger. He was apparently so lost in thought over releasing in the mans mouth, he completely missed the other man getting up, finding the lube, returning with said lube, and putting it on his hand.

He bit back a gasp as the finger pushed past the first ring of muscle. He forced his body to relax so the finger could breach the second ring, but found it hard to.

"Relax." Sherlock whispered, nuzzling John's neck as he worked the boys entrance. He placed a few open mouthed kisses on John's neck and shoulder and felt the boy relax.

He smiled and made quick work of the preparation, overdoing it even.

"Sherlock. Please." John gasped out, not caring if he wasn't fully prepared or what not. He needed the other now to such an extent he felt he would burst.

The brunette nodded, lubricating his own member before he placed it carefully at John's entrance. The blonde groaned out as he felt the other pushing in, filling him. Stretching him. He didn't even realize how loud he was being.

Sherlock was shocked at how loud the boy was groaning and keening as he slowly entered, lifting the boys hips until he was buried to the root with John in his lap. He wrapped his arms around the younger mans hips and began a slow, grinding movement, since it was the only movement they could really do with one in the others lap.

John's head fell limply back as he cried out when Sherlock's penis rubbed the bundle of nerves that was inside him. Sherlock groaned out as the cries and excitement the other displayed excited him in turn.

"Harder." The boy all but screamed out, jolting Sherlock into action. He laid the boy down on the mattress, lifted and spread the boys legs until he sunk in even deeper into the other and he began to move at a much more vigorous pace, his muscles bunching and clenching as he pushed his body to bring John to heights he'd never experienced before during copulation.

Before long, John had released for the second time that night shortly before Sherlock did the same deep in the warm body of the teen. He rolled off and lay, spent, beside John.

The blonde shifted over to the brunette and rested his head on one of Sherlock's sweaty pectoral muscle and fell into a fitful sleep.

–

"Must they be so loud? The last thing I wanted to hear was my own brother giving into his carnal desires for the boy." Mycroft sniffed, going back to his newspaper as the noise stopped and silence fell once more in the villa.

Lestrade glanced to the side, unwilling to tell Mycroft about his dilemma.

Mycroft looked up from the paper and gave Lestrade a look that told the other he figured it out without the other needing to say it.

"I don't know if I should be horrified or disgusted over your current predicament, Greg." He sighed, putting down his newspaper and giving the other a look.

Lestrade looked away, ashamed, causing the red-head to feel guilty. The elder Holmes sighed and stood up, making his way to Lestrade where he put a hand under his chin and turned the other to face him.

Once the Detective's eyes met his own, Mycroft leaned in and pressed his lips to the other in a slow, hypnotizing kiss. The detective reached out and rested his hands on the others hips and slowly brought Mycroft to sit in his lap.

The two wrapped their arms around each other, Mycrofts arms encircled the detective's neck whereas Lestrades arms were hanging loosely around the chubby mans waist. After a few minutes into the slow kiss, Lestrade pulled the other closer, grinding up into his rear to get the message across.

Mycroft pulled away, a light flush dusting his cheeks as he got up, ignoring the obvious tent in his pants as he made his way to the bedroom, knowing Lestrade wouldn't be far behind.

The red-head crawled onto the bed, sitting down in the middle where he began to remove his dress shirt, folding it and placing it on the end table neatly. Lestrade had already shed all his clothes, dumping them on the floor as he aggressively crawled up the bed to where Mycroft was folding his pants and placing them carefully on top of his shirt.

Lestrade put a hand on Mycrofts chest and slowly pushed him down, straddling his waist. He kissed the redhead again before moving down his jawline and latching onto the other's fair neck.

Mycroft went to push him off, but Lestrade growled out, "You're not working, it will be gone before you return. Let me this once."

The elder Holmes relented with a sigh and craned his neck to give the detective better access. Before long, he was keening at how delicious the suction felt on his sensitive neck.

Lestrade lowered a hand and slid it under the chubby mans silk boxers, palming his erection. Mycroft let out a wanton gasp, choked out, "Greg."

That was all Lestrade could take. He growled low in his throat before quickly yanking the others boxers off and worked the other mans penis while he fumbled in the side table for the lube. The grey haired detective shimmied down the redheads body until he was face to penis with Mycroft. He poured the lube generously onto his left hand, and simultaneously took the elder Holmes into his mouth as he pushed a finger into the chubby mans delicate entrance.

Mycroft cried out in surprise at the sensory overload, no longer caring that he was doing exactly what John did and he mentally berated the teen for it.

Lestrade finished up preparing and pulled away, much to Mycrofts disappointment, which didn't last long as the DI flipped the redhead over and swiftly entered him after liberally applying lube to his member.

Mycrofts short fingers grasped the silken bed sheets for purchase as he cried out as the taller man pounding into him in a rough manner. He could tell Lestrade was nearing his limit when he felt the taller mans chest pressing into his back as he reached one hand up to entwine their fingers while the other held fast to the hips below him, bruising the marks into the fair skin. Lestrade pumped his hips a final time before violently shuddering and laying heavily on Mycroft.

Once he regained his breath, he gently rolled the redhead over and pressed a kiss to his temple before lowering a hand to the others dick and pumping it slowly until he created a rhythm that caused the short man to moan gently into the DI's ear until he, too, released.

The two then curled into each other and were lulled to sleep from a mixture of each other's breathing and the soft, rolling waves crashing in the distance.

* * *

**now please review and let us know what you think, thank you to anyone has left a review for the story. one of the reviews confused both of us so I am not sure what to think of it. But I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	26. Chapter 26

The next morning saw John on a deck chair, surveying the beautiful beach view from the house. He sipped at his morning tea when Sherlock came out, a cup of tea in his hands. The taller man lowered himself into a large wicker deck chair and proceeded to bring his knees to his chest, sipping his tea on occasion as he watched John watch the view.

"Ahoy!"

The two men glanced over to where Lestrade stood in just a pair of jogging pants, an arm stretched above his head as he waved. John grinned and waved back as Mycroft came out onto the deck. The elder Holmes looked in their direction.

"I'm surprised you're already up, what with your vigorous activities in the night waking the dead." He sniffed in John's direction, ignoring the disapproving look Lestrade gave him.

John sputtered, his face flushing as he looked at Mycroft in shock.

"Oh, my dear brother, don't pretend it bothered you. I heard you oh so very much last night. Can't say I'm too pleased at the mental image it garnered." Sherlock drawled, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched his brother splutter and Lestrade laughing.

John went inside the beach house wondering what kind of family he joined. Lestrade was right; this would be the strangest relationship he ever be in. John just smiled he wouldn't have it any other way; this was his first real relationship and hopefully his only one. John also remembered about the Holmes not having a romantic bone in their bodies, last night felt like Sherlock was being romantic on the deck when he put his arm around him.

Right now the teen felt horrible, he had already ran to the bathroom four times this morning. He hated that nauseous feeling he got every morning; he could barely eat when he was sick, but at least he had tea.

He started to wonder if Irene had followed them. She was smart so she had to have figured out they had left the country.

John was swimming in the pool as Sherlock was inside watching him, Sherlock smiled as John enjoyed the vacation, and the teen wasn't trying to hide the mark on his chest anymore. John looked inside and smiled at Sherlock. This is what John needed; time away from everything. John got out of the pool and wrapped a towel around his body.

Lestrade came outside going over to the fence that separated the villas.

"John."

John came out from under the water and looked up to see Lestrade.

"Want to go out to lunch?"

"Yeah, let me get dried and changed." John replied, swimming over to the edge of the pool. He got out, drying himself off before rushing inside, "Sherlock, Greg's taking me out to lunch!"

"Alright, just stay with him."

"You're worried about me." John said.

"Of course." Sherlock said.

John got dressed quickly and went up to Sherlock, kissing him. The brunette watched the teen leave, "What got into him?"

Lestrade was waiting outside by the car as John came out the front door; he got in before Lestrade could say another word.

"So this is where they went." Irene murmured, making her way across from where she saw John enter the vehicle to the villa. She slowly made her way around the front of the villa before glancing in a window and seeing the brunette working on **her** phone.

She was about to make her way back across when a light fell onto her.

"May I help you, Madam?"

She squinted as she tried to make out the form behind the torch blasting into her eyes. All she saw was a short silhouette obviously on a phone.

"If you have no purpose here, please leave. Security already knows of your presence since they alerted me. We own this land, so please, remove yourself from the premises."

She was about to ask who was there when the door to the villa opened, "Mycroft, what's going on?"

She looked over to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, freezing when his fierce gaze landed on her.

"What are you doing here, Ms. Adler?" He sniffed, shoving her phone into his pocket. He came out in an aggressive manner, but reached out a hand to lower the torch in this 'Mycrofts' hand.

"You're blinding her." He said coldly before walking into her personal space. He went to open his mouth when the dirt near his foot kicked up. He and the other man quickly looked up and before she could say anything, Sherlock had her wrist in an iron grip and he all but threw her into the house. She fell into the other mans chest, whom she knocked over for he wasn't expecting her.

She panted, her hands and face resting on the other mans chest.

"Please, Madam, remove yourself from me. My husband would be most displeased."

She quickly straightened herself up, standing gracefully and watching the slightly chubby man right himself.

"I suggest she stays here, though if there is any funny business, just signal me from the back. I'll go inform Lestrade of this shooter and call security." Mycroft said in a clipped manner before leaving the house from the back door and heading to his villa.

Sherlock stared at her harshly and Irene finally began to feel shame.

* * *

**For the most part Winterimperfect wrote the chapter.**


	27. Chapter 27

Lestrade and John pulled up to the villas a short while later and were nonchalantly making their way to their villas when the doors of both opened and hurried whispers of, "Get in!" caused the two to glance at each other before hurrying in.

John took a step back when he saw one Irene Adler standing awkwardly in their villa. He shot a questioning glance at the brunette.

"She was snooping around after you left and was shot at. I tugged her in here." Sherlock explained, looking displeased, "I would love to go after the sniper and catch him but with her here I have no choice but to stay inside so that the assassin doesn't come in here. I don't know what would be worse, coming in to find her dead, or to come back and you're both dead because you came home."

John went to open his mouth, but closed it quickly and nodded. He ignored the piercing glance of the woman as she eyed their easy conversation.

"There's a guest room at the back of the house. Go in there and lay low. " Sherlock stated before grabbing John's wrist and hurrying over to his brothers villa.

They entered and Sherlock instantly groaned, looking skyward as they had walked in on the couple embracing. "Didn't want to see that." He muttered under his breath before he looked over and cleared his throat.

"Sniper. Has security been dispatched already?" Sherlock demanded, arms crossed as he eyed his brother.

"Yes. Now, would you mind? They didn't find the sniper, the only evidence you'd more than likely find is where he set up the rifle and gunpowder. We'll look tomorrow first thing if it will calm you down. Now. Leave." Mycroft stated, glowering at having been interrupted.

Sherlock sighed and turned on his heel, dragging the ever-silent John with him back to the villa. Once there, they made themselves comfortable in the den.

As comfortable as a couple with an intrusive woman could be.

"Why is John here?" She finally broke the silence, raising an eyebrow at the stony man perched on a wicker chair.

Sherlock took in a deep breath and explained, "Detective Inspector Lestrade asked me to watch over him after the death of his guardian. I am simply keeping an eye on him. I made plans for the vacation and had to take him with me. It should help with his stress. I am worried that he'll end up with PTSD."

He was the perfect actor, looking troubled or saddened at all the right parts. John was impressed with how good of an actor the man could be.

Sherlock, however, noticed the suspicious gleam in her eye. She didn't quite bite it seems.

"Oh, you haven't seen my phone have you? Since our.. date.. it's been missing." She smiled, ok looking at him innocently, but Sherlock was no amateur. His poker face was flawless as he murmured, "Heavens, no. I hope it hasn't been stolen or lost!"

She pursed her lips and leaned back, looking to the side.

"Do you want me to go get your luggage at the hotel? Which hotel are you staying at? You should stay here, under the protection of our security."

The threesome glanced over to the mouth of the den to see Lestrade had let himself into the villa, Sherlock simply cocked a brow but said no more over it.

She contemplated before nodding, "That would be marvelous. Wouldn't it be dangerous for you, though?"

Lestrade shook his head, "No. They'll be looking for a woman. I do not look anything like you. I'll be back shortly. If Mycroft calls, I went to get food for us all."

Sherlock waved a dismissing hand as John giggled slightly.

Irene simply studied their interactions, filing it away for later analysis.

"John, I think it's time for you to go to bed." Sherlock told him, the teen nodded and went to the bedroom and laid in bed knowing he be alone.

"I will find you some bedding for the couch." Sherlock said, leaving the room. She looked into the bedroom where John was and saw both their stuff was in the closet. Sherlock came back with some bedding, "Here."

"Where will you sleep?" Irene asked.

"I can sleep in one of the chairs." She nodded and laid down.

At four am she woke up to screams. It was John and she saw Sherlock go in and the screaming stopped. She was too tired to see what was going on so she went back to sleep, in the morning she woke up to see John eating breakfast.

"Morning, Ms. Adler." John said.

"You can call me Irene, we aren't at school anymore."

"Just a habit."

"Good habit, but I assume you call him by his first name."

"Of course, he has been taking care of me." John said, his hand covered his mouth and he quickly ran to the bathroom. Irene could hear him vomiting. John came back out and Irene asked if he was alright and he replied with a simple nod of the head.

"So, is Sherlock going to be your new guardian?"

"I don't know." John was trying to go along with what Sherlock told her last night. She probably saw through the act, "I better go get dressed." John went to the bedroom, closing the door.

* * *

**winterimperfect wrote the chapter, hope you like it!**


	28. Chapter 28

"Are you ready to go to the crime scene? I don't see why I must go, sniffing around is _your _job." Mycroft sneered, arms crossed as he waited at the back of Sherlock's villa for him to collect himself and follow.

"You have to come with me to keep your bloody dogs in check. They don't like me and I don't like them. Now, is the car ready? Let's go."

John waved Sherlock off as he watched the brunette get into the black car with his brother.

John was stuck in the villa with Irene nervous as can be afraid she find out that he was pregnant. He came out of the room in his swim trunks; he had forgotten about his scar since it was usually just Sherlock there. He went to the pool and dived in.

"Well this is obviously where he set up." Sherlock muttered, staring at the casing and the easily spotted marks of the rifle set up. "While he's not an amateur, he is rather sloppy."

"You mean lazy, dear brother." Mycroft sniffed.

"I'm not talking about you, brother dearest, I'm talking about the assassin." Sherlock quipped, eyebrow raised as a smirk twitched at that corner of his mouth at the smug expression his brother had slid into a scowl at the insult.

The brunette studied the scene and let out a sigh, "Sadly, there's not much to go on that I didn't already know. He ran off in that direction, short statured, mouse-like. He's probably staying under an alias at a hotel. Let's just head home for now."

Mycroft nodded in agreement and the brothers made their way back to the car and got in.

* * *

John sighed as he swam serenly in the pool, the warm water cascading over his back as he stood at the shallow end and stretched. He lowered himself back into the water before kicking off, doing a breast stroke. He, however, was not expecting Irene to come out. She looked at him as she sat down in the lounge chair and John stopped swimming and made his way to the entrance of the pool, where he got out slowly.

Irene was observing when she noticed the scar on his chest read 'mine'. He wrapped himself in a big towel hiding it quickly; he realized she saw it and Irene wonder where he got the mark. John was walking to sit down in the chair next to her.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Sort of, it will pass." John said without looking at her. She decided to ask him about his scar, "So how did you get the scar?"

John looked at her, biting his lip. He wasn't sure if he could trust her or if she would run off and gossip this information to anyone who would listen. He shook his head and sighed, there's no way to hide it forever, so he might as well divulge the information himself and not have her hear some warped version of it.

"My father."

"Why would a father put that kind of mark on his own son?"

"One that would sexual and physically abused his son for six years?"

"He abused you? Didn't you try to get help?" Irene asked.

"That's where Sherlock comes in. He was the first person I trusted to tell…" John answered, "He was doing his best, but my father started to blackmail him. He saved me from being killed by my father's best friend, whom was jealous of me."

"There was nothing to be jealous about."

"I know, but Sebastian was in love with my father and couldn't stand the idea of him and I, even if it was forced."

"Clearly you got out, so how did you manage?"

"The sniper that shot at the school was Sebastian. My father returned home to make sure I was okay. He left again and sent me a text saying 'I love you'- which was odd for him- and the next thing I know, DI Lestrade and Sherlock are at my house telling me my father and Sebastian fell to their deaths."

"The scene at the warehouse across from the school? That was your father that fell? James Moriarty and his right hand man Sebastian Moran were your father and his friend?" John nodded.

"I wasn't aware he had a son. You don't have his last name."

"It's the last name of my mother. I was only ten when my mom betrayed my father, he killed her as punishment. I reminded him of her so he punished me for her crime by not only removing Moriarty from my name and replacing it with her last name, but by doing to me what he did to her." John explained.

"No child should go through that."

"Sherlock saved me and he's the only person who can stop my nightmares."

"Are you two together?" She asked, John turned away starting to get uncomfortable. They both heard footsteps; Irene stood up and turned around to see Sherlock holding her phone. John looked at Sherlock worried that he be upset with him; Sherlock just continued to stare at Irene.

* * *

**winterimperfect wrote the crime scene and i wrote the scene with John and Irene.**

**hope you enjoy!**


	29. Chapter 29

John looked between Sherlock and Irene who were just staring at each other; John finished drying off and looked at Irene who looked nervous. John noticed the phone in Sherlock hand and realized why he had come out, more than likely hearing the conversation between the two. Irene looked at John than back at Sherlock.

"I thought you didn't know what happen to my phone."

"I lied." Sherlock said.

"Well it is locked I doubt you figured out the passcode to open it." Irene said stepping closer to Sherlock.

"No I didn't, John figured out the passcode." Irene looked at John in shock, "I need to know who this man is."

Irene wasn't sure about telling Sherlock anything, but considering the assassin tried to kill her she figured it be a good idea but she wanted something in return, "What do I get in return for telling you?" she asked.

"The answer to your question and immunity." Sherlock offered. Irene looked at the teen boy and back at Sherlock, "So will you tell me?"

She thought about the offer and chose to take it, "Rudi Sirius." Irene told him.

"When does he plan to finish his mission?"

"Wednesday of next week." She saw the older Holmes brother pull his phone out, "The assassin here in Spain."

"We know." Sherlock put the phone back in his pocket.

"You said if I answered your questions you would answer mine." Irene said flatly.

"I did, the answer is yes."

"You could very well get caught and then John be alone."

"I better not get caught than." The two adults looked at each other, John saw Sherlock walk away leaving him alone with Irene. Irene looked at John the teen looked away; she smiled as John looked back her way. John cocked an eyebrow confused.

"I see why you were jealous the first time we met."

John was taken aback by the comment, "We weren't even together yet." His face flushed red.

"You're lucky to have someone like him to protect and love you." Irene said, "John, there nothing to be embarrassed about… you two have a connection I never seen between anybody else."

"You don't intend on calling the police?" John asked confused.

"No."

* * *

**i actually wrote the whole chapter myself, winterimperfect edit it for me. (At least hope it edit i can't remember at the moment, we both been busy lately and yes we are behind on wrting two other stories.)**


	30. Chapter 30

Irene and John were at Mycroft's villa while Sherlock and Mycroft were going through some security footage of the attack the night before. Irene put on a movie for both of them to watch. She realized that she was trying to be a mother to him in some way. It was almost like instinct had kicked in the moment she saw the scar; John had been without a mother for some time because of his father's pride.

"When did you start to like Sherlock?" Irene asked.

"The moment I saw him at school. We locked eyes and the connection was instant." John explained, "We only knew each other's names once I found out I had his class."

"Almost like a bond of some sorts." Irene said and John nodded.

"My mom told me that I had a gift, that I would know who my soul mate was." John smiled, "I didn't think I'd find him so soon."

"Be glad you did or right now you'd be buried next to your parents."

"Yeah, he could have lost his life."

Both of them heard a noise in the back of the Villa, the sound stopped but the older of the two heard footsteps. Irene gestured for John to leave, but a thin, weasel-like man stopped him. John backed up and went to Irene holding onto her tightly, he was scared for his and the unborn child.

"This is what you get for getting too close." The man pulled out a revolver, Irene felt John trembling in fear. When the man stepped closer, John put his arm over his abdomen. She saw this and knew right away why John had done that. She wasn't about to let the man harm John or his child.

"Back off." She quickly barked out, standing as a shield for John to be behind. The man snarled, raising his pistol to aim at her head.

John almost didn't see her move as she quickly moved forward, grabbed the mans forearm and twisted until he dropped the gun. She kicked it out of the way but didn't see the man pull a dagger from his boot and swiped at her, cutting her down the back. She gasped in pain but didn't let it stop her from kicking back and hitting him in the stomach. The man recoiled but didn't want to end his pursuit. He advanced again, this time much more cautious of the thin woman who eyed him warily, unsure of what he would do next. She could guess, but she wasn't a clairvoyant.

He took her by surprise with a feint and stabbed her brutally in the side before he brought the handle of the knife down on her head, knocking her out temporarily. The man then turned to advance on John, whom held his abdomen protectively. He quickly scanned the room for anything he could use and his eyes landed on the revolver. He eyed the man whom was advancing rather slowly, a sadistic gleam in his eye. He kept one hand on his stomach and dove for the revolver, landing in a crouch with it and leveling it with the other mans chest.

"Oh, like you can use it." The other sneered. John quickly went over what he recalled overhearing Sebastian talk about when in a lengthy discussion over firearms, and quickly pulled back the hammer and gave the man his best, 'don't mess with me' face.

John wasn't expecting the lunge the man decided to go with and he soon found the revolver out of reach as he held the mans wrist which was about to plunge into his stomach. He felt tears of frustration fill his eyes over such injustice as he gazed into the sadistic glare of Rudi, whom was easily beginning to overpower him. He bit back the urge to call out Sherlock's name, knowing the man was nowhere near the villa to save him.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the rest of his strength desert him in the intense struggle and as he expected the knife to impale him, the weight was off him. He opened his eyes and expected to see Sherlock, not the huffing, partially slumped body of Irene. She held a hand on her shoulder, blood flowing from the wound on her back.

"Stay away from him." She growled out before slumping to the floor. She was loosing a bit too much blood to keep her equilibrium or strength.

The man laughed, getting up from where she had shoved him off the young teen, whom was currently scrambling to get the revolver, but came up short as the man grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, exposing his throat.

John squeezed back the tears filling his eyes as he felt the cold bite of the blade on his throat. The blade dug in, blood welling around the blade as strength was applied as he began dragging it across the throat. The blonde began to struggled, trying to get the man to let go, but a knee shoved into his lower back caused him to cry out in pain and the dagger was digging in more harshly, deeper.

He choked as it went under his adam's apple and a single tear escaped when suddely the man was yanked out from behind him. The sudden lack of pressure caused the teen to collapse on the floor, coughing and sobbing lightly from the fear. He quickly turned around to see Sherlock holding the man by his neck and squeezing. John could see the anger raging behind the steel face of his lover as he continued to squeeze, the man scrabbling to grab at the hands holding him off the ground.

"Sherlock. Let him go."

John looked at Irene who was looking up with glazed eyes.

"He has the information you need and killing him won't help one bit." Mycroft said in a clip manner, his men coming in to apprehend Rudi.

Sherlock took some deep breaths, his fierce eyes never leaving the assassins as he was escorted from the room. Sherlock immediately ran to John's side, checking him over.

"You seem fine. the neck wound isn't too bad." Sherlock breathed, but the homicidal look hadn't left. "I should've slit his throat." He growled out, a sneer twisting his face.

"Calm down." Mycroft muttered, kneeling beside Irene before pulling his phone out to call an ambulance. "She needs medical attention, we should take John in at the same time to make sure all is well with him and his child.

Sherlock nodded, holding John to his chest protectively as he eyed his brother.

* * *

By the time they left the hospital Sherlock was getting stir crazy. John thankfully was alright and just needed a few stitches for his neck wound. Mycroft's amazing influence made the police leave them alone, thankfully, and Irene was in the ICU overnight until her condition stabilized and she got a blood transfusion.

* * *

**Winterimperfect wrote the chapter, there is only 8 chapters to go before we end the story, i thank all the followers and the people reviewing the story.**


	31. Chapter 31

John was at the hospital visiting Irene; she had been out of ICU for a few hours. Sherlock was more than happy to take him to see her. He didn't understand the connection the two had, but he knew it formed quickly. She protected him like he was her own son; Sherlock hoped she would stick around in John's life, because he needed her. He went to talk to the doctor about her condition real quick, giving the two some time alone.

John sat in the chair next to the bed, thinking about what happened yesterday.

"John, what is the matter?"

"It just bothers me that I wasn't strong enough to stop him." John answered.

"You're sixteen years old, you're not going to be as strong as Sherlock or I yet." She explained.

"I could have lost the baby; you saw how close he was to killing me."

"Yeah, but you put up a fight. You didn't exactly give up…" Irene pointed out

Sherlock walked in and smiled, "John, she is right."

The blonde look towards the door and smiled.

"Go get something to eat." Sherlock told the young teen. John got out of the chair and left the room; he knew it was a hint so Sherlock could talk to Irene alone.

"I wanted to thank you for protecting John." Sherlock said.

"You're welcome, how far along is he?"

"Almost ten weeks."

"He was being very protective during the attack; I didn't know he knew how to use a gun."

"Neither did I." Sherlock looked at her before sighing, "He probably overheard Moran talking about guns."

"He'd stronger than he knows."

"I know, but I do have a favor to ask." Sherlock said. Irene looked at him and he continued, "I am not returning to school this year. I was undercover, I'm not an actual teacher, but that means John will be alone."

"You want me to watch him over. You're worried about him."

"And the baby." Sherlock added.

Irene smiled, "Sherlock, of course I would. I think you know that by now." Sherlock nodded in agreement and, with a small smile, left the room and mentally prepared himself for having to tell John about his leaving his teaching post.

* * *

**Winterimperfect and i wrote the chapter, and remember to read _'The Young Sniper' _we updated today and we would like reviews please and thank you.**


	32. Chapter 32

**the chapter a day late, i felt it need to be re written. winterimperfect wrote the jet scene i wrote the beginning, i hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

John woke up in the morning remembering they were leaving today; John had a week before school started. He hurried into the bathroom to check his neck wound and it had mostly healed but left a scar; Sherlock came in and looked at John, "Hurry up, we leave soon."

"Alright." John said. He got dressed quickly and when Sherlock came to get him, the brunette grabbed his hand and the smallest jolt of heat coursed through his body. He walked with Sherlock to the car and saw Irene waiting in the back. John hurried to the car and got in. Lestrade smiled as he saw John sit next to Irene. It had been weeks since the attack and John was glad to be going home, he probably wouldn't get as much alone time with Sherlock, but at least he'd be with him and out of danger.

As the car drove to the airport, John played a game on his cell phone. Lestrade was talking to Sherlock about something, but John couldn't focus. He didn't know they arrived at the airport until Sherlock said something when touching his shoulder, John just nodded and followed. They got on the private jet and went to the back with his lover while Mycroft and Lestrade stayed in front and Irene was in the middle.

* * *

John was wiggling in his seat on the private jet. Mycroft and Lestrade were talking quietly at the front and from the sound of it; Irene had fallen asleep in her seat located in the middle of the jet. He rubbed his thighs together as he glanced up at Sherlock, whom had fallen asleep shortly after liftoff.

John looked down at his lap, biting his lip as he saw the obvious tent in his pants. He was insanely horny. His mind was just filled with dirty thoughts, his skin was flushed and humming, sensitive to the smallest brush with the sleeping mans skin. His breath came in quick gasps as his mind hazed when he lightly ran a hand over the pale arm resting on the arm rest beside him.

He wanted Sherlock inside him. Right now. He placed a finger between his lips and bit down to muffle a needy moan that wanted to escape him. He focused his attention to the sounds of the others and noted that Mycroft and Lestrade had quieted down, so he assumed they had also fallen asleep.

He peeked his head over the plush seats in front of him and saw no movement in the cabin. He bit back a grin. He felt really naughty, and knew he would regret this decision in the future, but he needed it. He couldn't wait, he needed it now.

He slowly slid to the floor and maneuvered himself between Sherlock's legs. His hands braced themselves on the thin, but strong, thighs of his lover and slid them forward until he undid the button and zipper of the mans trousers. He licked his lips as he leaned forward, his hands slipping into the silk pants to pull the flaccid penis from the hole in the front. He glanced up through his lashes at Sherlock, noting he was still fast asleep regardless of him pawing at his genitals.

With a breathy giggle, John leaned forward and took the pale, flaccid penis into his mouth. He worked it gently, smiling around the member as it began to harden and he heard small, sleepy gasps escape the brunette. He flicked his tongue over the frenulum and instantly there was a gasped, "John?" Followed by hands threading into his blonde hair.

He glanced up at the sleepy, yet shocked, face of Sherlock. He grinned around the mans now very hard dick and continued his menstruation. The brunette bit back a moan, grabbing fistfuls of the blonde hair to hold him in place.

John's left hand slid up the cotton-clad thigh before sliding into the opening and cupping the mans balls through his silk underpants, smiling as he felt them draw up. He quickly moved his head down the shaft until he nearly gagged in preparation for the choked sound that escaped above him and hot liquid hit the back of his throat. It was probably one of the nastiest things he tasted, but he swallowed it best he could anyway.

As he was pulling back and going to look up at Sherlock, a shadow fell across the two.

"Nice to see you're enjoying the plush interior of my jet, but this is not a brothel nor a hotel and I would appreciate my seats to be clean."

John's face flushed as he looked up to see Mycroft's face marred by his deep displeasure at finding the blonde performing fellatio on his younger brother in his jet.

"If you can tidy yourselves up, I would like you two to come to the front of the jet. Where we can watch you. Now I'll have to replace these seats."

* * *

**thank you for all the reviews!**


	33. Chapter 33

John was getting ready for school and was about to leave, Sherlock knocked on his door.

"I'm about to go."

"I know. You need your bus money." Sherlock stated, handing him some money.

"Thanks." John put it in his pocket and he hurried out.

"John! If you need anything go to Irene!" Sherlock called out as the boy ran down the stairs.

"Alright!"

Sherlock watched John leave, he was glad to see the teen happy and not scared of losing everything. Sherlock had been glad when Irene and John had started to get along; the woman John had been jealous of became the mother figure he needed. Sherlock was no parental figure, but he was the one person John could spend the rest of his life with. They needed each other to live.

John made it to the bus just in time. He got in, paid the fare and settled in his seat. A short while later there was a tap on his shoulder. He look to see who sat next to him, "Cul!"

"Hey! Thought I'd never see you again after the incident at our old school."

"Yeah, my father transferred me."

"Speaking of which, he never let you ride the bus…" Cul trailed off.

"He died a month before school let out last year. His friend pushed him off a roof and they both fell to their death."

"Oh. Sorry. You're probably with Harry now, yeah?"

"No, she is still a drunk."

"I see. Maybe we can hang out sometime and catch up." Cul winked at John, whom returned the gesture with an awkward smile.

"Maybe." The bus stopped in front of a high school the few students on board got off. Cul stayed by John's side.

Back at his old school Cul had a huge crush on John and his father didn't like the unwanted attention of some male, so he paid another bully named Ainsley, who was a few years older, to frighten off Cul. What his father hadn't planned was for the bully to turn on John when Cul wouldn't budge. After having enough of the abuse, John had snapped and decked the kid, causing his father to transfer him immediately.

John was in his first class of the day and it was Irene's English class. She saw John was distressed and waited till after class to talk to him.

"John Watson, please stay after class." She called out just before the bell rang. John waited until the rest of the class filed out and he was alone.

"What's bothering you?"

"Just some_ friend_ from my old school. He, um… Seems to still have this obsessive crush on me."

"Then you better tell Sherlock in case he tries something…. What is this friend's name?"

"Cul. Well, that's what everyone calls him. His real name is hard to say, Welsh I think."

"Alright, I'll look into it. You better get to class before you're late." Irene told John as he hurried off to his next class.

She let out a sigh and sent a text to Sherlock, giving him the information John gave her.

* * *

Sherlock was at a crime scene, nose nearly pressed to the grass when his phone vibrated. He groaned and stood up, pulling his phone out from his pocket and checking the text.

**John has an admirer name Cul.**

**IA**

Lestrade looked at Sherlock, "What is it?"

"A teenager name Cul seems to have a crush on John. Irene's telling me so I can only assume it is not a healthy crush."

"Can't be if she's concerned."

"She's like a mother figure for John and she sure acts like one." Sherlock murmured before glancing at Lestrade, "You'll find the murderer in the garage across the street, he's been peaking at us for the past few minutes. The murder weapon is in the bush over there and from what I gather it was a mistake since he's been anxiously waiting for us to leave and constantly glancing at the bush."

With that, he left.

After school ended, John went to catch the bus. He was almost at the stop when he turned to see Cul following him quickly.

"John! Were you in a hurry?"

"Yes. I'm trying to catch the bus, I don't want to be late."

"That is where I am headed as well, my car hasn't been fixed since I crashed it."

"I hope it's fixed soon." He said as they boarded the bus, paying their fares. Cul followed John and sat next to him, refusing to leave John alone. When he got off the bus, he hurried back to 221b. John rushed up the stairs.

"Irene says you have an admirer." Sherlock stated, looking up from his computer.

"Yeah, he's got this major crush on me." John said. "I have known him since we were kids… We went from friends to my wanting to avoid him."

"Just be careful for your sake and the baby."

"I will." John said, sitting on Sherlock lap.


	34. Chapter 34

Almost two weeks later, John was leaving school after classes were over.

Cul was waiting by the school doors for the blonde. He saw a tall brunette at a grey Vauxhall, waiting patiently. Soon, John came out the doors, heading towards the car when Cul stopped him.

"I was thinking we could go on a date." Cul said as he leaned heavily on the wall next to him, trying to look suave.

"No, I really don't want to date anyone right now." John said quickly, making sure that his shirt hid his growing abdomen.

"I really need to go, my friend's waiting." John quickly brushed by him and went to Sherlock. Cul watched him and grabbed another student whom was walking by.

"Who is the brunette?" he asked.

"That's Mr. Holmes. He is a former teacher of this school." The student stuttered.

Cul let go of her arm and grit his teeth in anger. Who was this Holmes bloke and what was he to John? He decided then that he would find out whom this Mr. Holmes was.

John made his way into the school building, it had been a week since Cul had asked him on a date and has been even more persistent than before. While stashing his bag in his locker, his phone vibrated. He pulled it out and checked the text.

**My classroom**

**IA**

He grabbed his books and quickly went to her classroom where he found her waiting.

"Something wrong?" the teen asked, perplexed.

Irene looked at him, "Close the door."

He closed it.

"Did you tell anyone about Sherlock and you?" Irene asked. He shook his head no.

"There's a rumor going around that you're dating him."

"Wait, that can't be! I told no one! I haven't even told Mike!" John all but yelled.

"It is possible someone saw you guys and simply made the connection."

"I doubt it... What if people realise I'm pregnant?" John asked, worry evident in his voice.

Irene sighed and went up to him, "John, no one has proof of anything… I am sure it will blow over at some point, but you will need to be aware of what they are saying." She pulled John into a hug and he hugged her back.

-  
When lunch time came around, John was tired of the stares, remarks and giggles. He made his way to an empty table, rolling his eyes as someone called out, "Hey, fag, what's it like to have a teachers cock up your ass? Did he pass you for it at least?"

John put a hand over his eyes, pushing the food around on his plate as he ignored the giggles and taunts. He groaned when a familiar person sat across from him. Cul smiled at him, his presence all but choking the teen.

"So, got any plans for tonight?"

"Yeah. I'll go hide from the world." John muttered. "I mean, you've probably heard the rumor."

"You with that teacher? I know that isn't you." Cul said, grinning. John got uneasy again as the black-haired man leaned forward, "Maybe a date with me will stop the rumors."

"No, they will make them worse. I've got to go." John said quickly, leaving after throwing his lunch away.

Cul eyed the teens retreating form suspiciously. The boy had been sick frequently and seemed to be putting on weight. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he formed a theory about his little Omega, and he wasn't very pleased with the thought. If he truly was with that teacher, he was going to go out of his way to ruin them and claim the blonde for himself.

After school, John was happily alone on the bus. When he got off, he was not expecting Sherlock to be waiting at the corner.

"Sherlock? I thought you were on a case."

"Solved it. Irene told me about the rumor." Sherlock murmured, shrugging, "I don't get what the fuss is about but apparently it's a bad thing."

"You're not there getting the looks, the taunts, or anything." John said as they walked to 221b.

"People like to think they're smart and say things they hear, regardless of the truth, as long as it makes themselves feel better."

They got to 221b and went in; Sherlock took John's hand, leading him to the bedroom.

"I've got homework." John said, leaving the room quickly.

He dropped his backpack and wondered why he said no, he rarely got affection now adays. He closed the door behind him and quietly went to work on his homework.


	35. Chapter 35

It had been three months since he'd been doing this. Culhwch slammed his fist on the desk. No matter how hard he searched, no matter how many 'favors' he called in he couldn't find out anything about this Mr. Holmes.

The address he threatened out of the secretary ended up being a dud, no body lived there. He couldn't find any of his apparent family members either.

He threw his computer onto the ground when it didn't give him any leads either. He had attempted to follow John home many times in hopes he'd take a detour and see the teacher to see if he was, in fact, with him, but he would just go into his flat and stay there the rest of the night. However, it did appear he lived there with someone else, but that someone always seemed to know he was there for he or she never left the flat while he was there.

He growled deep in his throat as he pressed a meaty hand to his face in anger. John had been steadily gaining weight over the last few months, but only in his stomach area. His theory appeared to be correct. **His** John was pregnant with another mans bastard child.

He howled in anger and went to smash his desk when his mother slammed the door opened and told him to knock it off. He calmed himself down and sat on his bed.

Tomorrow.

–

John woke up, wrapped in a silk sheet. He looked around sleepily; the brunette was nowhere to be found. He slowly slid out from under the cool sheets and padded into the den, which was deserted. It seemed Sherlock had something pressing and had left. He shrugged and made his way to his room where he dressed, mindful of his stomach and careful on the stairs. He made his way out of the flat and slowly made his way to the bus stop where he waited, keeping an eye out for Cul. He heaved a sigh when the muscular man never showed up. Over the course of a few months the rumor died and the heckling stopped, but Cul's advances just kept getting more and more frequent and threatening. He worried for his unborn child, and in thinking of it, he pressed a hand tenderly to his stomach.

The bus soon arrived and he boarded, paying his fare and carefully sat down in a seat. He hummed to himself as the bus went on it's way, watching the sights blur as he got closer to his school. Once there, he alighted and made his way into the building.

He went to his locker, pulling out his books that he needed for the day. He received a text message from Mike and responded to it quickly before he hurried off, making sure to avoid being anywhere near Cul.

He was in English class and of course not paying attention, like he did with most classes.

Today was like any other day, his friend Mary sat next to him in French class.

"Hey John, you don't look so good."

"I am fine, just having one of those days."

"You have had them for months now." She said, worried.

"I really am fine, it is nothing serious."

John was glad when class started; he hadn't told anyone about the baby, not even his friends. When the lunch bell rang, he smiled and the whole class hurried off to lunch. He was thinking about what would happen if he ran into Cul at lunch today as he made his way to the cafeteria.

John was just about to enter the cafeteria when he was thrown into the wall. He wrapped his arms protectively around his stomach and turned in a way to spare his torso from the brunt of the wall. He turned around and glared at Cul, his instincts kicking in.

"I was right; you do have some bastard child in you."

John's eyes widened momentarily but he quickly pushed it off. He didn't care who knew anymore, all he cared about was the fact that this man just tried to not only hurt him, but his child. He would have none of it.

"He is not a bastard." John growled out, his arms tightening over his stomach as he glared up at the tall man.

"Is it that teacher? Is **he** the one who knocked you up? Or do you have a string of boyfriends and you don't know who the father is because you're a **whore**? How could you do this to me? You're **mine**." Cul growled out, advancing threateningly towards the small blonde.

John went to uppercut the tall man but Cul easily batted him aside, nearly knocking him over with a swipe of his large hand. The blonde was backed into a corner and he didn't have the strength to fight back. He feared for his child.

The black-haired man grabbed John by the shirt and lifted him off the ground by a few inches and brought him close to his face.

"You're mine, how could you go and spread your legs? Get knocked up? You're **soiled**."

"I'm not a whore. I'm not yours." John ground out, his legs kicking out in an attempt to free himself. He soon found his back smashed into a wall. He groaned out in pain, his legs going slack as he tried to catch his breath after it left him due to the impact. Cul leaned in to kiss him forcefully but the blonde moved his head to the side, effectively cutting off the others ability to do so.

The black-haired man let him go and John slid down the wall, his legs giving out under him until he was nearly laying on the ground.

John slowly looked up and glared at Cul before spitting at him and gasping out, "Sherlock never _soiled_ me. You're the one soiling me right now."

Cul's face flushed with rage and the boy raised one of his meaty fists and as it was about to make contact with the blonde, Cul was suddenly on the floor.

John looked up in shock as he saw Irene standing above the boy, her legs spread wide, stretching her knee-length skirt as she sank into a fighting stance, her legs taut with doing so in stiletto heels.

"Stay away from John." She hissed out, much like a mother cat defending her kittens. She moved to step on the boy when a throat cleared and she quickly stood straight up in a proper manner.

"Ms. Adler, I do believe physically attacking a student regardless of the situation is against protocol, I will see you in my office. Culhwch, come with me. I do believe we have an expulsion letter to write. Adler, get John to the infirmary." The headmaster sniffed before turning on his heel and leaving, Cul scampering after him.

"Thank you." John murmured as Irene slowly helped him stand before making their way to the infirmary. She set him down on a bed before she checked him over.

"Does your stomach hurt? Do you think he harmed your baby? Should we go to the hospital?" She asked in rapid succession as she pulled out her phone to text Sherlock of the events of the day.

John shook his head, "No, I think I'm fine. I just want to see Sherlock."

Irene gave him a knowing look before running a hand through his hair and sent another text. She stayed by his side as he slowly fell asleep, the shock of the attack hitting him.

–

He was soon shaken awake by Irene. He looked at her groggily and she gave him a motherly smile, "Sherlock is here."

He quickly looked up in time to see a disheveled Sherlock striding into the room; he swooped down on John, checking him over before he looked up at Irene. They shared a look before he glanced back at John.

"We're going home. I'll talk it over with the headmaster to have you take your exams and leave early. I do not want you in this environment this close to your delivery date. Irene, please inform the headmaster that I'm taking John home." He said coldly before he helped John into a standing position and they walked out together.

John went to move away, but Sherlock quickly held fast to his shoulder. "They can talk all they want, to anyone else it's a guardian being protective of his charge." The other murmured when John went to protest. He sighed and allowed himself to be lead out.

When they were almost at Sherlock's car, the door to the school slammed open and they turned around in time to see a red-faced charging Cul.

Sherlock pushed John gently to the side before he stood his ground. When the black-haired boy was in striking distance, Sherlock simply raised an arm and clothes-lined the brute. When Cul lay gasping on the ground, the brunette glared down at him and stated, "Never come near us again, Culhwch, or you will learn just how dangerous I can be."

With that, Sherlock turned his back on the writhing form on the asphalt and wrapped an arm around John, leading him once more to the car.

* * *

**Winterimperfect wrote most the chapter i just wrote a small bit.**

**hope you enjoy.**


	36. Chapter 36

Not even a week later, John went back to take his final exams in hopes of graduating early; everyone was talking about how John was knocked up by Mr. Holmes. Cul had been expelled from school for the attack. John was now back home waiting to hear if he passed. Sherlock entered the flat carrying a box of stuff.

"I got your stuff from your locker."

"So, I don't have to go back?"

"No, you passed… You have officially graduated." Sherlock said, putting the box down. John sat up and look through the box and found a photo of his father; he couldn't believe it had been a year since his father's death. The blonde put the photo back. He laid back and put his hand on his abdomen.

"I can't wait for this pregnancy to be over." John said. They didn't even bother to find out the gender and the baby room was ready to go. Lestrade came up the stairs.

"I thought it was your day off."

"It is. I wanted to check on you." Lestrade said. John groaned loudly.

"Did the baby kick?"

"Yeah, it is moving around." John complained. Lestrade sat next to John.

"Wow, you don't look nine months pregnant… I know how you managed to hide it." The DI remarked.

"Yeah, the kicking increased the last two days… I can't get any sleep."

"I brought this over for you." Lestrade said, handing him a small bag. John pulled a frame out of the bag; in it was a photo taken in Spain. John smiled, "It's the only photo I was able to get of you two with Sherlock actually smiling."

"Thanks." He looked at the photo of them; he remember when it was taken, it had been just before Irene had shown up at the villa.

* * *

Sherlock was in the den when he got a call from a DI in another district, it was murder committed in a closed room. He came out of the den and saw John watching the telly with Lestrade.

"Hello, Lestrade."

"Hi, Sherlock." Lestrade said back.

"Sherlock, what is up?" John asked, turning the telly off.

"I have a case but I will be away for a few days."

"Sherlock, he is due in less than a month." Lestrade said.

"The first one never arrives early or on time." Sherlock said.

"But, he could still deliver at any moment."

"Then he can stay with you and my brother."

"Of course." Lestrade said as John got up, or at least was trying to. Lestrade helped him off the couch. John made his way to the bedroom, "I am going to help him because I assume you're leave right away."

"Naturally." Sherlock said.

Lestrade went to the room with John, who barely had the energy to pack. Lestrade gestured for him to sit down; John looked at him, "Thanks."

"No problem." Lestrade said, pulling out his only suitcase. John told him what to grab and Lestrade saw a box of clothes in the closet and he pointed at.

"Oh, those are the clothes from before I was pregnant." John said, Lestrade nodded and smiled.


	37. Chapter 37

**Winterimperfect and i wrote the chapter, we both came up with the idea and i must say it turned out nicely. i shall let you read it!**

* * *

John was at Mycroft and Lestrade's flat since Sherlock was on a dangerous case. The teen was due any day now with the baby and he couldn't believe that Sherlock would leave at a time like this. Mycroft wasn't even pleased that Sherlock left his young lover in his care till he got back; Lestrade had been more than happy to help. John was watching telly while Mycroft and Lestrade were in their bedroom spending time alone, John could hear them ,blushing slightly at some of the more vulgur cries, so he turned the TV up to tune out the noise.

* * *

Sherlock was on the hunt. A murder had been committed and no one could figure out how it had happened or who the killer was. It was a few minute details missed as per usual that put him on the trail of a possible psychopath. He felt adrenaline rush through his system, his eyes glittering as he slinked through the alleyways of a less savory neighborhood on the prowl for missing evidence and the last piece missing to solve the puzzle.

He glanced towards a dumpster and saw something vital to the case, the missing walking stick covered in blood! He pulled it out and went over it visually, sniffing it slightly. Not human blood, how peculiar.

He quickly took off, the last piece of the puzzle clicking into place.

* * *

John was getting up when he bent over in pain; he held his stomach, breathing slowly. The pain was gone again. He had been having the pains all night but figured he was just tired like last time. John got up and walked to the bedroom after turning the telly off; he decide it was time for a nap at least. He had just made it to his bedroom when the pain was back worse than ever, he screamed holding onto his bed. He sat down. This couldn't be happening now he was two weeks from his due date, he wasn't even ready to go to the hospital, but then he felt another pain.

"Greg!" John yelled. Soon Greg came in running; John was sitting on the bed.

"John, what is it?" He asked in a panic.

"I think the baby's coming!" John said taking deep breaths.

"Lay down, let's see if the contractions continue." Greg said. John laid back and once again another contraction, "How long you been having the contractions?"

"Seven hours give or take." John answered as he laid back.

"I need to check how far you're dilated." He said as he checked to see if John was dilated, "Oh, shit. Mycroft!" John looked up at Greg.

"What is it?" Mycroft asked, coming in.

"John is in active labor." Lestrade said

"Well, I guess it is time to go to the hospital." Mycroft said. Mycroft didn't like Lestrade's look. "Why not?"

"He's seven centimeters dilated; he won't make it to the hospital…" Lestrade saw Mycroft's look, "Please, just get me some towels right now and we can replace them later."

In the meantime John was just listening, almost in a panic because Sherlock wasn't here. Of all the times for Sherlock to have another dangerous case. Mycroft went to get some towels and pulled his phone out to call his brother.

Back in the room, John was having another contraction. Lestrade was trying to help him as much as possible.

"Breathe and relax." Lestrade said.

"You're not the one having contraction pains!" John snapped as he was holding onto the sheets. Lestrade was taken aback but remembered John was in labor and he would be kind of a bitch. Lestrade had read a book on child birth; he was waiting for Mycroft to get back with the towels.

Mycroft rolled his eyes as he pulled down the towels as the phone rang, this had to have been the fifth attempt at getting in touch with the childish Holmes brother. He was about to hang up when he heard the line on the other end pick up with various curses.

* * *

"I'm on a case, Mycroft. What is so important that you must ring me incessantly? I'm on the trail of the suspect, what do you mean come home now? I'm about to solve this case, I have no time for talking. What do you mean John needs me? He's fine, I'll be home tomorrow. He's in labor? Why does he need me there? He's the one with the baby. It's social protocol? Like I ever followed that... Don't yell! Fine. I'll just finish this lead and be there. No. No I won't leave right this instant. I will finish this case. Good bye."

* * *

The elder Holmes hung off and rolled his eyes at how childish his brother could be.

Mycroft walked in and Lestrade looked around, "He's almost ten centimeters, when is Sherlock getting here?"

"Sherlock will be here eventually, but… He's finishing up the case first." Mycroft finished. John looked at Mycroft and he looked mad.

"What do you mean he's finishing the case first? I will have his balls as a trophy, I swear it! Get his ass over here! He put this bloody thing in me so he best get his arse here on the double!" John yelled. Lestrade looked at Mycroft and didn't say another word about it, John screamed in pain from another contraction. Lestrade saw the baby crowning.

"Mycroft, please get a doctor here." Lestrade said. Mycroft left the room to call a doctor, he could hear John scream as he had another contraction.

* * *

"And that, Gregson, is how it happened." Sherlock finished, a smile at the others bewilderment. He nodded his head at the other, "Now, if you'll excuse me. I need to get back, I am needed urgently."

"But, Sherlock-" The other started but the taller man had already walked briskly to the street and hailed a cab.

* * *

John was pushing as hard as he could to get the baby out, Lestrade looked at John.

"You're doing great; it should only be one more push."

John took a deep breath and pushed, "There we go." John felt the pain completely go away followed by a baby's cry, Lestrade cut the cord and wrapped the baby up in a towel. Mycroft came in cautiously and saw Lestrade holding the baby.

"Mycroft, take the baby to John." Lestrade said, Mycroft held the baby and went over to John. He couldn't believe he was an uncle now. He looked at John as he held his newborn son. Mycroft heard the door open he walked out of the room and it was the doctor he called.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Bright." Mycroft said.

"Anything for you, Mr. Holmes."

He went to the bedroom and Lestrade left to let them be.

"Any sign of Sherlock yet?" Lestrade asked.

"No."

Lestrade cleaned his hands and was waiting to hear what the doctor would say when the doctor came out.

"You did a wonderful job, Mr. Lestrade." The doctor said. "Here's the information you need."

"Thank you." Mycroft said as the doctor left.

"Now for Sherlock to show up."

Lestrade went back into the bedroom; he went to John's bedside and knelt on the floor. He looked at his nephew and smiled.

"He's not here, is he." John said.

"No, not yet. He will be here… You know him." Lestrade said.

Mycroft was at the front door and opened it to see Sherlock was standing there; the two looked at each other.

"It's about time you graced us with your presence. The baby has arrived and John is fine, no thanks to you though." Mycroft sniffed.

The taller man ignored the jab and brushed past, all but gliding to John's room.

Sherlock looked in on John who was holding their newborn baby boy; he walked in slowly and went to John's side of the bed. He looked at the baby who was looking at him; the teen looked up at his older lover. Lestrade left the room to be with Mycroft, who was annoyed that the sheets were ruined.

"You can hold him." John said to Sherlock.

The brunette seemed hesitant, staring at the small body in a wide-eyed manner.

"I'll break it." He murmured, not even reaching for the baby. John scowled, "You will not. You will hold him. Now."

Sherlock was taken aback at the demanding tone in his young lover and hesitantly reached out, holding the baby. He held it in the crook of his arm, his body tense. He was so uncomfortable that John couldn't help but laugh, even though his body hurt and the trembling wracking his body when he laughed made it worse, he couldn't stop. He wiped the tears full of mirth from his eyes as he reached out and took the baby back.

"And here I thought Mycroft was the most awkward with a child." John said, his voice cracking as he still chuckled.

"He used to hold me when I was a baby, back when he had feelings. Mum told me that once upon a time he wanted to be the best big brother in the world." Sherlock replied, settling down into a chair that sat vacant by the bed.

* * *

**Next comes the epilogue, i like to thank everyone who is following the story and has reviewed. the reviews cheer me up and anyone who favorite the story, i had fun writing it and never really expected to come this far but with winterimperfect help it really turned out wonderful.**


	38. epilogue

**8 years later...**

Sherlock walked out of the bedroom to go make some tea, but on the way to the kitchen he noticed John had fallen asleep studying again. The blonde was in his eighth year of medical school and studying for the final exam. Sherlock went back to the room to get a blanket to cover the man. John had joined the army a year after getting into medical school; he no longer was a skinny teenager. He was more muscular from all his army training, when Irene found out John planned to join the army she wasn't too happy about it.

Their son Payton was the best of both; he looked more like John but had Sherlock's eyes and skin tone and there was no hiding that the boy loved science and adventure. He was short and chubby with blond curls, he tend to dress like Sherlock but preferred Jeans over trousers. After Payton's birth, the first month was hard trying to get Sherlock to hold his son. He used the same excuse that he would probably break the baby. John wouldn't have none of it and Irene was over everyday to see Payton.

Sherlock made his tea and sat down in his armchair after picking up John's books; he got through half his tea before he heard an explosion from Payton room. He saw John jolt up out of the corner of his eye as he ran up the stairs. John groggily got off the couch throwing the blanket off before and going up after Sherlock. The blonde male got there just as Sherlock opened the bedroom door and they saw broken beakers and different color liquids on the floor and wall; John was horrified but Sherlock couldn't help but smile. The blond curly haired boy looked up to see both his parents and just straighten himself, John muttered, "He **is **his son, too."

"It's progress?" Payton said, looking at his parents sheepishly. Sherlock chuckled as the palm of John's hand covered his face.

John took a deep breath. "Clean the mess up." John said walking away still tired from studying.

"Yes, dad." He answered, Sherlock went into the room to help his son. Twenty minutes later Sherlock came downstairs and John was in his armchair drinking tea, Sherlock sat in the arm chair across from his partner.

"That was his science project." Sherlock said.

"I thought he did it for fun." John stated opening his eyes, "I can't wait for school to be over."

"You're almost done. Just one more test and you will be a doctor."

Payton came downstairs and went over to John, "Daddy, can I get more supplies for my science project?"

"Yeah, of course. This time ask your father for help with it." John said. Payton smiled and sat on his dad's lap looking at Sherlock, "How about you two go and talk over your project before I go get more supplies." The young boy hugged John.

Sherlock and Payton went into the kitchen talking about the project, the front door opened and he knew the footsteps coming up the steps, it was Irene.

"Hi." John said getting out of his chair and greeting her, "I was wondering if you'd like to go out and get some lunch?" Irene asked. John nodded and went to get dressed, Irene went up to Sherlock and Payton, "So, how you doing Payton?"

"Good, working on a science project aunt Irene." He answered. John changed quickly and came out ready, "We will go shopping after you get lunch, right?"

"Of course." John smiled, "Let's go Irene." The two headed down the stairs out of the flat as Payton and Sherlock talked about the science project.

* * *

**We have two other stories posted if you want romance, read _Corrective Therapy_, if you like action and romance, read _Exsanguination Cyphers_**


End file.
